Fire of the river Styx stretches before us, Life lays behind.

Flames, as visions of decisions flash by, Life meaningless.

Sparkling light welcomes all those returning; The collective.

Soul detaches from organic matter and rises, The universe.

Taking his punt, the reaper drives sails light, After light.

Burbling molten lava; steams desolate smoke, After reunion.

He hides his face behind drab cloth and hood, For Hades.

Willing the passenger to seek behind, immortal, For Hell.

Closer to the cavernous fort orb and master flow, Only experience.

Alighting at the rocks, seeping into the darkness, Only emotion.

Sharing, reviewing, recanting, offering knowledge, No retribution.

At one with all beings, for there is only the one, No separation.

Leaves on a mighty oak, apart from the trunk, But together.

Falling to form as acorns, scattered. Enduring, But related.

Universal consciousness regarding existence, Suffering bad.

Insightful, for the leaves to flourish and sing, Suffering good.

Divine energy pulsing through matter and light, Connections form.

One voice singing with itself, a complex ballad, Connections drift.

Departing the brimstone, sailing towards the light, Choice; return.

Forming paradise from shared, elegant thought, Choice; remain.

Light of birth; to suffering and elation in equal

measure,

Light of death; to the collective until the leaf drops an acorn.