I KNOW NOTHING

We only know that we die.

If those who mourn 

the departed 

with copious tears

console themselves by saying

the deceased have parted

to a better place,

are they really weeping

because they fear loved ones

kept their many mortal sins

locked away in a closet

filled with other secrets

and are going to spend 

eternity in hell?

I've never understood 

their sorrow.

Why are they crying

if the dead are residing 

in a better place?

Or do the living know

in their heart of hearts

that there is nothing

and their father or mother

or husband or wife

or son or daughter

have disappeared forever

and they will never see, 

touch or hear

that person again?

I hark back to Socrates

who had no fear of death.

"I know nothing."