Many a day I pause to think
of those who have passed away
to become nothing but ashes
as insubstantial as a handful
of sand or dull clumps of clay,
with even the humblest creatures
that animate the world around me
like the ants, butterflies and bees
possessed of more life than they.
Oh, that the deceased left ghosts
at least there would thus remain
some vestige of them to be seen
or that there were a high heaven
where their souls dwelt eternally,
not this complete annihilation
with no salvation or damnation
for these who have ceased to be
that now haunt only my memory.
