Seven Seals Poem by Zyw Zywa

Dying is rarely gentle, but
nobody is retelling it

Muscles don't think but do so much
their best to save the doomed body
that you on the contrary perish

with hellish torture, because
all of a sudden time slows down

to eternity while
on the strokes of the last
hour the sky starlessly

gets black from a new sun, which swells
up to redeeming nothingness

Please forget this, live as if
seven seals protect you
Forget there comes an end

and how then