Questions about death

Of all the questions you might want to ask
about death, the only one you ever hear
is what becomes of the souls afterwards?

No interest in how they have passed
across the realm of existence into the fallacy of
eternity or if their dammed souls are summoned
unto judgment, shackled to each other with
burdens of perpetuity.

Are they the icy darkness that terrorizes
our children's closets?

Are their whispered facts shared with us
through the fragility of the wind?
Or do they remain silent, relishing in the unknown,
spiritedly sashaying around, with the cool
knowledge of eternity that is a secret to us?

What about their former relationships?
Does the advantage of being invisible
allow them to divinely dine
with former lovers, or haunt them
with hearts of justified retribution.

If death really does drive a carriage, may
it choose who it transports?

No, theologians and ministers are the best
at informing about the dammed souls.
The only legitimate answer for what
transpires after death is
given in the Book of Life.

The question is designed by parents,
simply as bribery, telling the small, greasy faced
children what will happen to them when they die,
if they're not good.

They wander endlessly from the roads in
Rome, traveling calmly in the sinister of knowing.