Ultimate freedom or dreadful terror

Four lettered words are often mourned,
But a certain five lettered word there is.
Created with a simple coitus,
One last breath, pff bliss is all there is.

Mortals that we are,
In a web of illusion.
Death won’t delude you,
Life will be gone, leaving nothing in due.

Were we born to live,
Or are we bound to die.
Only one truth there’s
Known not by hair splitting distinctions of scholars,
But by pure logic of faith.

Lost the contemplation of nature,
Absorbed in infidelity of outsiders.
Life dwells in and of itself,
No matter what, death is always the same.

In the hall of eternity,
Amid the ambience of love.
Too brief our life is,
Obligated to karma, death is all there is.

Identified with my stark appearance,
Only silence I seek.
Befogged by a flood of thoughts,
Life is so chaotic and death so meek.

Ostensible are the files about death,
With every passing by of breath.
Need all the solitude and freedom,
Silently awing death for it.

Nothing will ever be the same,
Leaving behind for only a souvenir.
Puzzled but only inclusiveness I seek,
Nothing but nothingness there seems.

Delusive we are,
Only reality it peels.
Discovering all the truth,
Culminates it all, with a soothing tranquil.

—To Sadhguru