Death

I imagine death

So much

It feels like a memory

Am I alive or dead

Here or there

In hell or purgatory

I sit alone

The line blurred

Between void

And existence

What is a legacy

Why do we live:

To work

Love

Hurt

And turn to bone

Only to be forgetten

A word on the chalkboard

Not taken down?

That is our legacy

Who lives?

Who dies?

Who tells our story?

We will never get to see

Just sand on a floor

Graphite on a page

Blown away

By time

Into the desert

Of the past

Is anything real

Do we truly matter

If we are not either

Anymore