"We Shall Not All Sleep in Death"
Separate from the Human Whole,
I wake in depths of Old Sheol.
The Bardo dialed my number,
And I’m brought through realms I thought long ago culled.
Perception stretched, time collapse.
A katabasis in a single act.
The clocks refuse to tick.
I turn and see my body on its back.
My terror at the Real,
and at what remains concealed,
Binds my presence to the world.
After life’s finale, my eyes remain peeled.
My breath won’t take, and my pulse is absent.
I see without sight, and my limbs are transparent.
Cries for a witness resolve in silence.
Horror abounds at our lives’ petty attachments.
The return is quick and brutal.
Amnesia waves crash against instinct.
The Self pushes forward through them.
Once more unto the breach, I think.
Silent awareness
Numbs my existential panic.
What I once thought was strength
Was merely human spirit, taken for granted.
“Abandon Hope…” is a redundant command.
Hope abandons us in these ethereal lands.
The dead move among us, their chains unneeded.
Egos whittled down by every warning unheeded.
The Gnosis is embodied.
Received, the message sent.
There is no choice in this matter:
We Shall Not All Sleep in Death.
-Brett W. Urben
Gnosis Under Fire 