Is life the start of everything?
Beginning and the end?
Or just the middle of this world?
Perhaps a time to mend?
Is the life we live today,
The only thing well ever see?
Or is there something more to it,
Something more for us to be?
Do our souls echo forever on,
What we do in life?
Or do they die and disappear,
Just fade into the night?
Like a sunset, do we do pass?
Pass to dark and fade away?

Or do we rise another time?

Another place?

Another day?