If death is final, then why does it linger?
Why do loved ones wallow in its distress?
On such questions I wish to put a finger
and unravel the mystery of postmortem stress.

Existence supposedly ends with death,
yet it remains active in memory and feeling.
Perhaps it is final only for oneself
and the results are dealing with its meaning.

None of us truly know until we expire,
yet we fear it more than anything else.
Is it the withering of the soul’s inner fire
or leaving this world for another place?