How death has probed nonentity somehow,
That further infiltrates what never seems
Whilst lying undisturbed in worthy dreams
Exonerate the wishes I’d allow.
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If Faith were instrumental to His grace,
The altitude would nonetheless be horst
With make–do innuendos reinforced,
In search of the ideal a blessed place.
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To sample the most spiritual arcane,
Those effigies from such the human kind
Contain no less investitures of mind,
To breathe in new existences again.
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If dreams were in denial one would say,
I raise it in awareness everyday.
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