Ah, death.
Finally.
I had hoped for a kind of nothingness,
a blackness,
where every thought I had ever had
would be gone forever.
I had hoped that every cell
would be destroyed in the cremation,
every atom that had decided to
congregate into my physical form
released into the universe
to find another purpose elsewhere.
I had hoped that all of my secrets would
have disappeared with my death.
My sins too.
And all those blasted memories.
What a waste!
If I’d known what was waiting for me,
I would have lived longer,
avoided the sun.
But this?
Ah, crap.
Do you know why you’re here?
What do you bloody well think?
Well, of course, I know why I’m here.