They asked how long you’d like to live.
You said, a little more.
They all say more.
As if forever were a sunrise
you could pocket.
But forever is not light—
it’s the absence of endings.
No curtains.
No finales.
Just a sky so wide
it forgets your name.
The faithful call it heaven,
a kingdom without clocks,
where no one dies
and no one leaves.
But even gardens rot
when no one’s allowed
to shut the gate.
You will pray
for hunger.
For grief.
For something
that hurts.
Because hurt is proof
you still belong
to something fleeting.
But in forever,
you outlive your gods.
Outlast your sins.
You become
the last echo
in a chapel
that will not collapse.
What is the reward
in a story
that caanot end?
