Edward H.
Edward H. Poems
What happens after death? A question we ask,
A blatant secret of ages, a truth that we mask,
We all have different theories, in our vows, and religions,
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Sometimes I think, I think a lot. I've never had a moment without melancholy thought.
I ask what it's like to die, or how one could do it.
I think about life, and how I'll get through it.
Do I hold value, and do I have meaning?
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The Best Poem Of Edward H.
How To Live Forever
Many see life as birth, existence, and death. This, quite frankly, is the reality for an appreciable percentage of people. The reality is that people live on through their ideas. A mark, a symbol of themselves and their work. Think about it, we wouldn't remember someone who lived isolated, alone; Someone who hasn't created connection with other people. What about someone that managed to touch many other people, make an impact in their lives, or even implement their creativity and philosophy within writing and art? These are the people we remember specifically through history; The people we study and analyze in school. The people we can look up to, even though they are deceased. This goes back to the reality of the matter, that we all die. Is that our meaning of life as mortals? To pass down knowledge and hope and guidance to others? We don't live on through bodies, as bodies die, and rot, and decompose. We live on through ideas. Ideas NEVER die.
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4/19/2024 6:11:51 PM # 1.0.0.1119
