Mystery Of Afterlife

My murmurs and whispers

To the gods of death

Are a priced possession of my head

That often wonders 

What's it's like to be Dead.

Does our memory blank out

With little to no sign of remorse

Hurt, defeat, love?

Or does it become forgetful 

As death gets older

Just like our memory lane 

Growing fade with old age.

Do we still recognize

The people who once

Occupied an awfully large place

In our hearts

That's stopped beating long ago or

Do our souls fill with memories

Of them, when they talk about us

From another world.

Do voices surpass beyond?

I wonder how we'd communicate

In afterlife

My messed up head wonders

There must be a network setup in progress

That in 100 years could reach the spirits

Bringing humans closer to the Dead.

If that's the case, I'd spill all the secrets

Of afterlife 

To everyone to be better prepared

Or fear death

So, they unhand their phones for one minute

And interact with them before it's too late.