Afterlife

|| Noun ||

High above the clouds
Laid a plot of wishing wells
Which shimmered and purled
And where our memory dwells
Marked numbers embodied on them
Specimens destined to die
Perfect testimonies of life
Which makes people question their lies
When they come up
For their afterlife
What’s left behind
Is full of anger and strife
They drift around in hope
With a clumsy toss of a coin
That they may bury the hatred
And let peace rejoin

– a.h.

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