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Death Is Only the Beginning
(From the Pen of Thomas Miller – Death Poems from the Afterlife)
The breath I took was not my last,
though cold hands gripped me tight and fast.
The world went black, my body fell,
but that was not my farewell.
The pulse was gone, the flesh was still,
no warmth remained—no earthly will.
Yet in the void where none could see,
a door was cracked, and I broke free.
The stars did whisper, the moon did hum,
a shadowed voice said, "Child, come."
No chains could bind, no grave could keep,
for death is but a fleeting sleep.
I rose beyond the shrouded veil,
where time dissolves and fears grow pale.
The ones I loved, long turned to dust,
stood waiting there, their arms robust.
Their voices soft, their laughter light,
no sorrow here, no endless night.
I saw the ones who weep and wail,
not knowing that we do prevail.
So carve no stone, shed not a tear,
I whisper now—I am still near.
The body's gone, the soul takes wing,
for death is just the start of everything.