To die

What is it like to die, be dead?

Nothing but nothing, no more, no

less than dissolution and all being

gone, not to heaven or hell:

no consolation, no judgement:

just a silence that is no silence

at all, for to feel nothing is to

be nothing, and the time before birth

has come again, and just the remnants

remain to remind those who knew

this person, unique and forever no more,

that the time to feel is now, here,

amid the flesh that is pink, not

the heart stopped up and bluish cold.