Dreaming a little nightmare of me

There's something after death that makes me wonder if Death is what it (or whom) is...

Probably it's not a question of substance... of being something... someone....

In the end, all things gets to their end. That's not the point! No.

The thing is: do the things thinks they even exists in fact?

Why don't take some rest and just let it be?

The whole stuff  dreams thinks they're made of...

There is nothing at all.

Not that can be (even in some oddly way) caught up.

There is no substance. Only appearences.

Appearences and other deceits...

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Do you really think these words exists in fact?

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