What is there when we all are gone?
What use comes from the greed-possessed wealth,
other than to please our current existence?

What hotel room will the rich reside in?
When they are in the land above,
and where among them will the poor men lay?

What was there for us to know?
When history reaped what it had sown,
and learnt it's lesson: only to forget again.

What is there beyond today?
A figment of time, life and space,
or an investment into the unknown place?

Life is the worst thing to have happened to me,
yet it is the best in every degree,
because without it I wouldn't be pondering the idea.