Who the Devil am I,
And what have I become
Why on Earth am I here
In life what have I done
After this what happens next
Have I made my contribution
Have I done enough for mankind
Or am I due some retribution.
What will be my legacy
Who will know what I have done
Will anybody but family notice
Who will see that I have gone
Is there something out there
What comes next I muse
Should I start believing
What have I got to lose
Is there somewhere up there
Is there another life to come
Have the holy people got it right
With a Heaven there for some
Should I improve my chances
Perhaps I should mend my ways
Is it too late to change my mind
As I approach my Autumn Days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
As a non-religious person I've heard it phrased in a way that made me think twice about my lack of faith: either there is a higher power, or there isn't. If the latter is true and you repent your sins and go to church you have lost some time on this earth to a practice which has no impact on you in the afterlife (or lack thereof rather) . If however, it is the former which is true, that 45 minutes a week could mean the difference between eternal suffering and eternal bliss. The argument wasn't powerful enough to sway me to go back to church, but it did bring on a logical mathematical point