From here to eternity, I will follow you

Crossed that barbwire,
In a land of the free,
To become the man I wished and am ready to be.
Instead of the pandemic,
I crept my own desire,
Only to end the war,
Of the scorpion curse,
Through My own distress,
Got not much fuss, I confess,
All distress is gone,
Now I rest assured,
At the end of it all.
Truth my come to life,
Hospital bed filled,
Corpses that piled in NYC,
Now lay at the morgue,
Ragged in just but distress, All is I confess,
with all life desire,
I aspire and breath freely,
the hurricane of my sins,
the limits of my abysmal sky,
Now lay assure, in the land of the free
just like Marylee,
Edgar Alley Poe,
Is just the beginning,
the end and the reason,
I became to write,
To become not root,
In the bed and mist of all,
I write and I begin to think,
What is left of life,
Is it the distress and all that piled mess?
the answer you have,
Just think of it instead,
To live is to die,
Just the thought in vain,
Running through your veins,
Until you confess, to mighty of it all,
Until you are no more,
Human, Zombie, or humane,
Ending or just beginning.
From here to eternity,
I will follow you.

Find more by Sebastian Popescu in the Author Index.