One More Breath

Maybe we are not 

really afraid of death,

But we fear our name being

Plucked from out of the air,

Of the silence surrounding 

just a single thing that 

is sometimes just no longer there.

Because we can never really know

bout the life span of a single sound,

How many years after a body stops

that our names will really stick around.

Maybe it goes on for future generations

and it echoes one last time... Then never,

Until the space that it had once filled, 

is replaced, unknown and lost forever.

Or maybe there is another way

after it lives and we all fade

I believe that is the reason as to why

So many of us tend to write our names

Inside most of the books that we own

and anything that we have ever made

It is a small portion of remembrance

Within a world that's most likely to forget.

and the taste of who we were

Rest upon lips of those we've never met.

But I hope they'll stumble on the stories

that we've loved or are worn out with age.

Because I believe that's where they'll find

what it is that we will actually have left

So there our name appears on a cover page

and for just one brief moment,

It is as if we had been beaten to death

That it is in the whisper of those words

That we have even taken another breath.