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.