I asked you once,
If you believed in reincarnation.
You said it was just wishful thinking,
In a land of pure imagination.
But when times were dark,
And the sun lost its beam,
I remembered your remark,
And dream a little dream.
What is it that they seek?
A new beginning,
A second chance,
Or another shot at life?
But the bitter truth is,
No story starts in the middle,
A death is but a kiss,
And life is just a riddle.
Is it better to keep sleeping,
Or to peek just a little?
Maybe I'm just nitpicking,
And hoping for a miracle.