Remake, Remodel

this poem was inspired by the concept of death. Death is never truly the end.

We are the trash, recycled.
Reused,
over
and over
and over
and over again.

The souls container
will be beaten and battered,
broken and shattered.
It will chip and leave subtle cracks
making us vulnerable to destruction.
Our skin will wear thin,
leaving us exposed
without colours to hide behind.
Then we will be disposed of
in those boring brown boxes
Beneath the ground.
But please don’t fear
for the process will repeat:
Reworked.
Remade.
Remodelled.
To learn further lessons,
to break you down and build you up;
higher and high each time.

Remake, remodel:
Until we reach our full potential.
Until we are filled up -
over flowing
with the purest, most innocent
form of love.

Author's Note

All feedback is welcomed, both good and bad. I hope you all enjoy!x