'' The Afterlife Is Real '' Poem by Bri Mar

The twists and turns,
Of life still burns,
As I prepare to meet my maker,
At those rows of urns,
My stomach churns,
As I view the undertaker.

As he talks to me,
He doesn't see,
I'm absorbing his every word,
Dead flocks agree,
That though we're free,
This new life isn't blurred.

The shell he views,
Is now old news,
It's but an instrument we leave behind,
We excel and peruse,
This our universal cruise,
Believe me it does blow the mind.

It's called a soul,
Which we extol,
But only when we are alive,
It's enthralled to enrol,
In a Heavenly patrol,
For eternity, we'll now survive.

Those passed are here,
I feel no fear,
I can assure you we don't ever die,
Steadfast and clear,
Meet your new frontier,
Reality you cannot deny.

Although I'm gone,
Don't feel put upon,
Believe and my presence you'll feel,
Do show your brawn,
It's not a con,

‘' The Afterlife Is Real ‘'