by Cleardaynow
Hard to imangine that state. Will the memories fade, will there be nothing?
Interesting perspective. One blessing of humanity may be that we do not deal with our own passing. What we leave behind is up to others to determine. This is why I try and live with passion, if not now, when?
Lives on after death . Everything else fades .excellent thoughts : 5-ed
----ashesh9
Like most of the poems I have submitted, I wrote this some years back and just reviewed it, making small changes before submitting it here.
At the time I wrote it, I showed it to a few friends. One said 'Of course this poem is a metaphor?' I looked at the friend and said 'No, it is about death'.
I think I take the perspective from the view common in ancient times (ancient Greeks and others I think) of the dead wandering round as pale, miserable shades of their former selves - whinging to themselves and anyone they meet. My ghost at least has the common courtesy to stay where he is put.
Personally, I particularly liked the futile conceit of the first line and the bleakness of the last line. Perhaps those are metaphors.
I love unique perspectives. I love death meditations. Beautifully written.
To comment on Oldbear's questions, Hardy adresses the idea in "His Immortality."
But then this is a nice different perspective!