The end of an era

...And don't forget to breathe
when you lose your lungs to disease,
pleasure comes from
knowing you're safe,
that the things you cherish exist.

The fact that they once did
-but do no more-
does pain the soul to cherish:
The love of lost objects.

Can your mind
exist without your body?

Why can't we live
when we break free from "things?"

Is there no greater achievement
than to live in loss and strive?

Here again
doused in refrain
acknowledging those in pain,
covered in skin
their truth is within,
to outwardly say,
"Nothing is vain."

Alas, one remark,
for 'twere, it could be,
some doth think as big as the sea.
That pain is strife and certain misery -
but not if it's free to see clearly.