genre: Chamber Music
As a child I was afraid of The Dark. Now I fear Mortality. I cannot imagine not existing. Simply not being there in my purest form. Sentient and alive. Being part of The Silence. Being consumed by The Silence. Being a Memory, fleeting, fading, forgotten.
Who will remember us when we’re gone? Family, Friends..and then who? Those names in a graveyard no one knows or remembers, their tombstones fallen into disrepair. When the living forget us- is when we truly become dead.
Even gods are mortals- suffering our same fate- when humanity kisses extinction- will the gods die too?
Well... as the title suggests its about mortality. But with a slight twist: when we die (as in the human race) do our gods die with us or continue? I like to think we carry our myths to the grave with us- in much the same sense as the Egyptians but instead of taking our myths with us into the 'afterlife' I like to think that when we shed our mortal coils we live elsewhere without these pseudo religious baggages... costume jewelry pretending to be the real deal.... because whatever is The Truth outside of humanitys little bubble means that our eyes will one day see and our spirits will know.
The problem is we'll be too busy fascinated with Reality to come back and tell the 'living' about it..
Life's a ****...