For all the wrong reasons

Buddhika. 

To understand this soul thunderous peace,
You must, first, return to being dust,
To commune with me again, you must pass,
Flesh is nothing but vein torture,
Skinned to bone you from the light death controls.

There is God in every air here,
His scent is nothing like the roses though,
Remember how we drew his eyes?
And how we thought the sun looked like his heart?
Do not be sad friend,we were wrong.

Our bone of contention is mortal flesh,
Don’t take your life to jaunt with me,
I’ll speak to God to free you from your frame,
But live right to ease the process,
I am with you, now and always, dear friend.

LARDO