You have closed your eyes, and never again will a word pass your lips.
Your breath has left this body, dissolving you into invisibility.
It seems like the end of the story, the final destination.
But it is not a return home – no one ever left.
It was always, and still is.
Tears and mourning around you, a last and irreversible goodbye.
The deep and sharp pain of loss. The point of no return.
Who will you become when you have evaporated?
Yet this apparent end of life is still life unfolding,
without interruption, without ever a break.
The traffic hums. Birds sing. Children laugh. Wars turn into peace.
All without you.
Even in decay, this body remains inseparable from life,
slowly returning to soil or ash.
From the tiniest microorganisms to the vast cycles of nature and civilization –
for all of them, you never existed.
And still, life emerges again and again,
rising and falling, growing and dissolving.
At first, you remain as a memory,
a flicker in the stories of the living,
shining like a distant star in the night sky
Sometimes as joy, sometimes as sorrow,
imprints increasingly blurring
and you fade into the quiet vastness of oblivion.
Yet in this fleeting spark – you might call it awareness –
the whole universe is embedded,
like a hologram
shimmering through the dark
