From the Verse Essays of Ivar Benløs: My Notes Are Going Back in the Trees

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The passion of death in life.
The passion of death in life
Created human culture.
Out of competing cultures
Rose immortality,
Our unrequitable love,

Our golem who will save us,
Our noli me tangere,
Our unicorn in the trees.

We want to dream forever,
Even though forever is
All we ever have. The last
Moment of dreaming still dreams.

Doesn't explain anything.
Just the way was is what is.
The passion of life is death,
But nothing alive is dead.
That's why we suffer so much,
Not because we will die, but
Because we're wed to dying

And divorced from dying's dream
Upon its consummation.
We are always in the midst
Of life and lost in the woods,
And our dreams of other worlds
Comprise those woods, in which we
Dream branched word worlds we're lost in.