The Afterbirth - Death Invents Itself

It takes so many forms
It races at the speed of human evolution
Of time, of technology
An ever-present promise trivializing threats
No way to predict, only place bets
Over and over but never revealed
The gate only works one way then it is sealed
Many have wondered, others have preached
Only one way to find out, that's to reach
With one hand open into the dark
You try to feel and grasp
The other hand won't lеt you go
Though you beg to dis-attach
Death invents itsеlf