They said that when you die, your soul floats to another dimension and searches for a new beginning.
They said when it finds its destination, the acceptance depends on your soul’s purity.
But when I died I found no God, no Devil, no Heaven, no Hell, or even the hollow embrace of a purgatory. I didn’t find my life’s happily-ever-after jotted down in a book, or scribbled carelessly on a chamber wall in the lake of fire.
I found myself completely alive within my death.
I’m now left to write poetry with my personal demons for eternity.
And I’m utterly content.