When I die, I will be dead.

When I die, I will be dead,
I will be gone, you might be sad.
Everything that made me me
Forevermore will cease to be.

I won’t be in a better place,
I won’t move on to somewhere else,
All will vanish, nothing stays,
Not in your heavens, nor your hells.

„lives on in memories“ may well sound
friendly, charming and profound.
It’s garbage, I’ll not live at all.
I’ll just lie under my pall.

Please resist explaining how
matter and energy go on.
They do, but does that matter now?
The configuration is all gone!

Just like a painting in the sand,
washed away, or wiped by hand,
It’s not found within the grains,
And so it is with minds and brains.

Yes, the parts are still around,
And yes, they will forever stay,
some in the air, some in the ground,
But the structure’s gone away.

So please don’t cheapen my demise
With deepities that may sound wise.
But then again, why shouldn’t you?
Why would I tell you what to do?

If you ask me, I’d advise you
To just accept that I’m not there.
But if you don’t, I won’t despise you.
I will be dead. I will not care.

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