To the sunset

At the end of the day, the soul never dies, the sounds never fade, whether you hear them

or not, the planet still goes around, and all we are is a fortunate coincidence, all we

are is an experience, a momentary blip, a fragment of imagination, bundles of emotions

captivated within the body, and all this is an expression, a surrender of sorts, a celebration

of life, coming to terms with the mishaps, all I am is a work of the universe, dissecting

bits and pieces of what I can rationalize, and all I am doing is soul chopping, this is me, this is soul chopping