Memory Traces

God, let this tired, worn-out flesh
Sink into merciful oblivion,
Let divinities, angels and heavens
Be a very welcome given,
And though my body be decayed and shriven,
My soul, my spirit and my mind
Are to some glorious afterlife or heaven driven,
Not, god forbid, not to a purgatory or some hell,
When fate ordains to leave my mortal shell,
But, sadly, do I come to the empirical conclusion,
That all this religious propaganda is but self-delusion,,
Yet, yet, the atoms in my body do go on and on,
They only dissipate to other forms, when I am gone,
Traces of memories what once was me,
May still remain in them, when I do cease to be.....

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2005 Alfred Charasz