Existing

I walk paths that were paved long before my existence

Voices and laughter that once echoed for miles

are now replaced by the faint wind

The movement of my feet cause the dust

to rise and mingle with the air

Eventually the vaporous cloud settles

and covers my foot prints

To others who might pass in the future,

I was never here

I was never here.

 

Throughout our lives

We'll take, give, destroy, and create

Leave, and be left behind

We'll connect and disconnect

We'll change, for better or for worse

We might leave behind traces of our lives,

but that's not promised

 

The only things in life that are

Is that at this very moment we exist

and the inevitable termination of our lives

It's unavoidable

So why not embrace it, The End

We will exist, we exist, we once existed

Isn't that it, “The End” of our story?

Or is there more

More to our lives, our existence

Our purpose for being here..

 

I used to believe there was more

But like the direction of the wind,

my beliefs changed

It originated in fear

but was swayed by acceptance

 

Now when the words “life after death”

Flash before my eyes

My mind no longer illustrates a translucent scenery

of lightness and pale skies

Instead it conjures an image of darkness

a tunnel where at the end the light keeps flickering

and it's only there for a split second

before I'm greeted with nothingness

 

We cling to the abstraction that is afterlife

Hopeful and desperate

that we'll never have to face the end

because there won't be one

 

Look around

Look closer

People suffer in the flesh believing that someday they'll be saved

That their existence on Earth is only momentary and short

compared to the everlasting life that’s supposedly waiting for them in heaven

 

But are we truly living if we're only living for what's after death?

 

I used to believe

Faithfully and humbly, I believed

In my religion’s promise of Afterlife and God

So what happened?

What changed?

You start to wonder when or where did things go wrong

And if things ever felt right to begin with.

 

Religions and theists

All deny “The End”

Because if it's true

That means our existence

Is nothing more than a result of arbitrary chain of events that led up to a miracle:

Life on Earth

And is that such a terrible thing?

 

Maybe to the future, I was never here.

But I am now

Nothing is guaranteed in life, except right now

Why wait for “afterlife”

Why dread “The End”

 

Sure we may be guaranteed that we're existing at the moment

But even that doesn't mean we're truly living

Living is not a way of being

It's an action

It's a feeling

It's a choice

 

So I’ll cling to these words

as if they'll escape my mind

“I’m here”

 

Even if it's not for long,

even if no one remembers

 

I'm here,

I'm here.

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

Comments