You always thought you would die and then
be resurrected to live again.
Or you lost someone you loved so much
you invented Heaven to stay in touch.
Or you simply refused to believe your soul
could just disappear down some black hole.
Or maybe you chose to believe that spark
would go with your body into the dark.
Or that all your joyous exhilaration
was only part of a simulation.
All wrong. All right. All misconceived.
It matters not what you believed.
It matters not which part you played
in the personal universe you made
from which to learn, with which to touch
the other gods you missed so much.