What happens
So, what happens after were dead,
Do we suffer in miserable silence,
Cry in our head,
Does our last breath unplug us from all ever said?
Do our memories persist of the places we’d loved,
Or end in wet soil,
A cold blanket, black, shoved!
So, what happens when we last wave goodbye,
Does despair wave us off,
As we fade through its eye,
Do we go into oblivion,
instead of the sky?
Do the toys in our frozen heart fester and rot,
Do we each venture off,
Where another cannot?
So, what happens when the great night ventures in,
As were holding our kids,
As were kissing their skin,
What happens to all the life left within?
Are we nailed to a tree for the depth of our sin,
Or do we simply,
end,
then once again,
begin?
So,
what happens when we plunge beneath the deepest sea,
Do we hold our breath in an eternal grave,
Longing again to see,
The blondes and the blues and the fields of strawberry?
Do we fade into pale,
As our loved ones unfold,
Do we merely become old stone,
Dead weeds and mould?
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