What if we didn't go anywhere
when we die,
and all that happens
is the dissolution of our soul,
Hisssssss
and all you heard before the end
was a simple
laugh, what laugh, whose laugh
you'll never know:
half-flown, you’ll wish for more
to happen, your soul to go onward,
then, taken by some force,
shaded lighter.
Will it be good, dying, the end
of a broken spell?
Author notes
Another one for my poetry class... I'm not sure if I'm proud of it or not.
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