After death, we ponder: Is anyone truly worth such agony?
Yet this pain, like gravity, pulls us down,
An inevitable companion on our journey,
How do we carry it, this weight of absence?
I yearn to lend my heart a voice,
To speak words that might soothe its ache,
But alas, the heart lacks its own mouth,
And so we turn to tears, the language of grief.
Yet what if we dared to believe differently?
What if our sorrow found expression in other ways?
Perhaps not in sobs, but in quiet strength,
A resolve to honor their memory, to forge ahead.
We ache to avenge their departure,
To make the universe pay for its cruelty,
Yet even at their final farewell,
We send messages into the void,
Hoping their spirits catch the whispers,
And we find solace in the echoes of our love.
The voices we hear are memories,
Etched in the chambers of our hearts,
Their laughter, their wisdom, their quirks,
A symphony of moments we hold dear.
God, why this cycle of life and death?
Why create existence if it ends in silence?
The tunnel's end promises light,
But what if that light leads to infernal shores?
This life—darkness, struggle, and fleeting joy—
Is it a cosmic paradox or a divine riddle?
In my humble plea, I echo the ages:
God, have mercy on our fragile souls.
With ❤️ By Josh Mark
