After

The world is purely relative

And we are naught but fools

To think ourselves contemplative

As if we knew the rules.

The things we do each day, and next,

Remain with us forever

And hate concealed in subtle text

Portrays us not as clever.

And when we’re done, and looking down

On all we have partaken

The question we must ask ourselves

Is will we be forsaken?

What actions, deeds, and words put forth

By me have truly mattered?

I hope to say mine all will prove

My soul was left untattered.

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2 thoughts on “After

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