There’s a wave in the distance.
It is rushing toward me.
Do I run? Do I stay?
Any which way, I am a grave-to-be.
So I stand still, thoughtless,
count the moments past,
relive ancient memories,
while death approaches fast.
That is when the question pops,
“What was the point of all this?”
the first cry, the last breath,
and in between, tender love’s kiss.
All that is gone now,
what remains is a shell of me.
So after I die, please don’t forget,
to remember, remember all of me.