It's Going To Be OK

The surface scars and the barroom brawls
And ages of regretfull yarns
Were burried there, beneath his rustic skin
The things unsaid, the love not shown,
Worlds left unexplored
Were yet his, and it had shown
Piled high upon the results of his decisions
Like racecars broken against the walls
He had left it all and reaped his last
And converted oxygen to CO2 no more.
Before he went, he cussed and hollared
And even the Doctors had to scowel
Maybe even a few mistakes
Had hastened him along
And yet another life which had desperately
Clung to itself
Trying hard not to loose
Memories and further chances
Bruises, and abuse
At long last, it all poured out
And the atoms of the man
Became another form.
And the surface scars and the barroom brawls
Can no longer be remembered
The lifeless form, the undone husk,
This template of a man
Will be discarded in the dirt

And whether he loved or destroyed
Abandonded or rejoiced
Conquered, shared, or retreated
Whether he was afraid, ruined, or overjoyed
All things are now the same to him
His cares are now wasted,
His memories disperssed
His form is now thrashed beneath the stone
There is nothing now that holds meaning to him
He has be come a concept
An abstraction
A character we play through in our minds
The meaning is now ours, upon these stages
The only effects he left behind
Quieting, even now, like ripples in a pond

Life clings to itself.
Desperately.
It is terrified of stopping
Ceasing to exist
But look beyond, below the terror,
Through the fog of the meanings
That life holds so dear
And you will understand
That it's going to be OK.