when we are all but ghosts and the last of our hearts has been weighed against a  feather
what then?
what love will remain?
what forgiveness sought?
when our last breath expires and to dust we return
what then?
what kindness remembered?
what shade of regret?
when our memory fades and we are forgotten
what then?
what vestige of triumph or failure persists?
will we have lived loud enough to echo through the cosmos?
to cause a single wrinkle?