This thought at times plagues my mind Not in the sense of complete consumption, But in a manner that strikes me with a sinking feeling In the pit of my tum, in the depths of my soul A secret fear, though I'm certain it's not exclusive There will come a time that I will die. All the moments, every single second All my breaths and beats Each twitch and blink Will cease and become memories Or will they? When I slip into the ether, will I hold to my past sights and dreams Or will I simply be a vapid void Would it fall upon an ear if I were to scream? Would I even be capable of tears, The ones I'd certainly shed Just the same a refugee does when fleeing their country- Their home, But more than merely a home. It's all I and they have ever known. I suppose it's equal fear in leaving home and fear of the unknown. I cannot imagine anything other than green grass and the rumble of thunder Southern rains and how they bring comfort So as it begins to storm in my new year of twenty-four, I cling tightly to this planet, this plane, my perception of consciousness, My dearest kind, all the car rides, broken hearts, locked lips, All the pain and it's opposite, And I smile because of how beautiful this life is, A gifted experience from the creator, And I am thankful.