We don’t create the fire 
So much as build the pyre 
The great opus unfolds 
When it occurs to us 
To build and to burn
Are one in the same 
We are the kindle 
And one with the flame 
We take the moth’s journey 
Toward the light 
In full awareness 
Of it’s all-consuming 
Nature
What else is there really?

When we arrive at the unshakeable sleep 
It’s then we can get some rest

When you rest you rust you always told me