Flatbread Teriyaki Chicken

Fear,

Here's my scary rental.

It's time to let go.

As death is only fear.

Here is my face, dear death,
dear fear,
dear me.

They will hunt all your belongings,
and create the memory of your life,
they will decide the perfect image to remember you.

We are the things you remember from your past,
Then we become your slaves,
slaves of your belongings,
slaves of your morning coffee,
slaves.

And then,
only then,
we forget you,
nature,
then we forget you,
then,
death.

If everything has a value,
and you fly back home,
hunting your past,
scared of death,
your memories,
leaking death,
hunting your rent,
see me,
the fugitive from the losing memory.

If one becomes a mere representation of the memory of our past life,

I now appear gone.

Find me where freedom is real.
Find me where life is present.
Find me where love is relieving.