There’s nothing poetic about death
Death leads to
a cold corpse,
decaying to dust under six feet of dirt
Worms weave through empty sockets
The soul that once dwelled within
reduced to wisps of memories,
disappearing entirely as generations march on
Death brings worthlessness
What we fail to comprehend
is that the prospect of that worthlessness,
to no longer be remembered,
to cease to be anything in this dense universe
is what’s most frightening
Image Credit: Livke
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Cool posting, I absolutely will enjoy posts from you.