Do you fear death?

Imagine before you were born. This is how I imagine death.
No need to strive for perfection. There is no wrong.
Nothingness, the misunderstood heaven, it waits patiently for our return, and will welcome us with arms of none.

We never cried a drop, we were never lonely, nor jealous, nor hated or hateful. Nobody comforted us, we never wanted for comfort. An absolute absence of fear and dread and despair. We were never loved, we never cared. We weren't and never were. We understood nothing and everything. All and none.

We fell into the world under protest, attacked before our first breath, forgotten before remembered; our cold crisp blanket of none. The light does blacken and burn our innocence. But when we are tired and shiver, our blanket will shroud and devour us, a darkness of unjudged perfection.

We shall see all there is, all there was, all there ever could be. We will see nothing.

Imagine before you were born. This is how I imagine death.
No need to strive for perfection. There is no wrong.
Nothingness, the misunderstood heaven, it waits patiently for our return, and will welcome us with arms of none.

We never cried a drop, we were never lonely, nor jealous, nor hated or hateful. Nobody comforted us, we never wanted for comfort. An absolute absence of fear and dread and despair. We were never loved, we never cared. We weren't and never were. We understood nothing and everything. All and none.

We fell into the world under protest, attacked before our first breath, forgotten before remembered; our cold crisp blanket of none. The light does blacken and burn our innocence. But when we are tired and shiver, our blanket will shroud and devour us, a darkness of unjudged perfection.

We shall see all there is, all there was, all there ever could be. We will see nothing.

Imagine before you were born. This is how I imagine death.
No need to strive for perfection. There is no wrong.
Nothingness, the misunderstood heaven, it waits patiently for our return, and will welcome us with arms of none.

We never cried a drop, we were never lonely, nor jealous, nor hated or hateful. Nobody comforted us, we never wanted for comfort. An absolute absence of fear and dread and despair. We were never loved, we never cared. We weren't and never were. We understood nothing and everything. All and none.

We fell into the world under protest, attacked before our first breath, forgotten before remembered; our cold crisp blanket of none. The light does blacken and burn our innocence. But when we are tired and shiver, our blanket will shroud and devour us, a darkness of unjudged perfection.

We shall see all there is, all there was, all there ever could be. We will see nothing.

There is no such thing as a fear of death. It is fundamentally impossible to fear such a concept as death.

There is of course a fear of dying, and many people have this.

I dont fear death, or particularly fear dying. What I fear most is becoming injured to the point I would rather be dead.