Something Worse Than Death

Unless the world is penned on sheets,
generations will go astray.
Who's inside me that says it a thousand times?
That I must pen what he has got to say.

The pillars of earth ever become visible,
death will swing them side by side,
Meanwhile, there's something worse than death–
hurt, pierce of pin– pain you cannot hide.

Death is unjust and spreads painfully.
But crazily it vanishes, finally leaving behind only memories.
The death of a mother haunts
But discovering a lover never love kills.

Like drowning in a river of lies, you suffocate–
Everything was kept in darkness with no hint.
So fooled– overwhelmed when unveiled,
Can death be compared to submerging in lies?

Who's inside me that delivers these thoughts?
I've even forgotten I'm a poet and, as a poet
I pen emotions and encounters and vividly,
Being fooled into love is worse than death.