Grand Plans After Death
Poem
The moment —
Where peace was supposed
To meet me —
Was the moment death was
An honest thing to believe
To be.
—
Death,
Despite its grandeur,
Was a part of the human —
Where its state gives no reasons,
None to believe in it,
But you feel it.
—
Plans after plans,
What happens after —
Who knows if it's all futile,
Just the place of a mind,
Caring for the living that stays,
And forgetting the living that goes.
—
They, I,
Were a part of them,
A collective where we know life,
Banished, journeying,
To a place of true unknown,
How gracious it was to think of —
At least at the thought of leaving.
—
Would the moon be the same,
Would the dark match the light,
Would the corners of fear follow,
Who would meet us at the start,
Is there a choice?
—
Will lungs full of air necessary,
Is a heart still beating,
Can I still taste my lips,
Will the smells be persistent or non-existent,
There are so many questions,
All of which I know I can’t resist —
Thinking about them.
—
Oh well,
When it comes,
I will ask all I like,
Maybe then peace will be forever,
Maybe it’ll be eternal,
Maybe life will be —
But the forgotten memory….
— —
