In a breathless eternity we exist,
Our minds poised on the lip of a chasm, dismissed.
Every thought, once resplendent, now a spectral tryst,
In the unending echo of a moment just missed.
In the shadow of death, we are unborn, unblest,
In the shutter-flash image, life's truths are undressed.
Our whispers immortalized in the ether's abyss,
A rehearsal of life in digital artifice.
In the carnival of memories, no rest,
In an afterlife sprawl where moments persist.
The echo of laughter, the trace of a kiss,
A million sunsets that the sun once kissed.
Yet, the curtain of death, its dark certainty, exists,
A final threshold where no light insists.
Does another realm beyond this abyss persist?
A new dawn, a new life, a new afterlife's tryst?
In the cold, silent void, will our essence subsist,
Or dissolve into stardust, lost in the mist?
Are we prisoners, trapped in life's parenthesis,
Or are we destined for a divine genesis?
Do we dance forever in this spectral twist,
Or does life truly begin when death we enlist?
We're trapped in the afterlife, in a timeless gist,
Each breath a plea, each heartbeat a wish.
