If there is a life after this--
One in which you could somehow
Look back upon the ones you left,
Observe by looking down--
If this world you can still see
Would you watch over me?

If in death your soul persists,
And your memories remain--
And you can recall your favorite color,
your favorite food, your name--
If you can remember who you use to be
Would you think of me?

If being dead, to the deceased,
Is just like a nap, except unending--
A swim through the subconscious
As the soul is ascending--
If you simply slip to sleep
Would you dream of me?

If dying means to stop existing--
No soul or ghost or whatever else--
One simply fades into nothing,
No resonating sense of one's self,
If you only persist in memories--false or true--
Would I remember you?