What will even happen when I die?
Will I soar with God's abundant love
Or will my soul disfigure in the fires of Hell?
Will I become a hollow shell,
With a dwindling consciousness until I forget how to think?
Or will I just be gone with my final breath?
Who would remember me?
Would anyone remember me?
What would they say?
Is there truly anything
Worthy of a smile
Or a tear
Or a laugh
That I have done?
They say you die twice;
Once when you physically die,
And the last time someone thinks about you.
All I ask is this:
Do not forget about me,
Or your brother,
Or your brother's brother.
Write everyone down.
For through words
Our spirits linger,
Our anatomies are spread across the vowels,
Our actions mapped out into sound.
Through words,
We live on.
