When I'll be gone

When I’ll be gone

I wonder sometimes how would it be, when I’ll be gone.
When it will be all over with my last breath drawn.
The seasons will be the same, the same sun rising at dawn.
The stars I have grown up with, will be shining for aeons.
The same wind will blow at night in half deserted lawns.
And thus the world will carry on, long after I’ll be gone.

The fashion I wore will be dead, revived and dead again.
Politics will keep swaying from left to right and left again.
Maybe a war or two will bring in a new empire’s reign.
Or maybe nature’s wrath will leave all the triumphs vain.
Generations will be brought up in new ideas, in new ways.
Even the gods and the religions will never be the same.

My legacies will crumble and so does my hoarded treasures.
My name will reduce to a mark in some inheritance ledger.
Displaced by the grass, the bones in my grave will wither.
The engravings on my tombstone will eventually disappear.
In some faded photograph, the last trace of me, may appear
But surely, all remnants of mine, in due time will be cleared.
I wonder sometimes will this effort be worth it after all.
To spend your life trying to make a mark, big or small.
Priceless years wasted in pursuits of luxuries banal.
Heading an empty chase oblivious to the destiny’s call.
Will these reluctant deeds will ever liberate my soul
Or this blind race will continue even after my fall?

I hope to keep myself alive in the hearts and the minds
Of grateful people to whom I was kind, even for a while.
Or maybe in the ethics, passed on to the progenies of mine.
I’ll find myself in the words uttered in His grace divine.
Or in the hands of a consoler or in the lover’s eyes.
I’ll live in those memories which are worthy to be kept alive.