We Never Die?

@2016, Olan L. Smith

Who calls to my carcass? Is it you? Writer of Codes

Can you reattach sinew to these dry bones? Surely

You can and will! Make me walk upon earth upright;

For you are the Weasel chewing a hole in truth.

If I could, I would raise my right arm and smite you

Into the ground for creating delusions where only

The deluded can deem your dishonesty. Codes!

Zeros, ones, both, and neither, everywhere I look, I

See only ciphers. My hand once real was only statistics,

Mathematical symbols that dare not see beneath

A shrouded surface. But now I am dead, and reality

Is revealed in this reflective glass. I was never tangible;

I was a physical forte in thought only. We are generated generations

Of histories long lost, and we're forced to relive long forgot

Bygone eras, a future's impact. We're animations for your amusement

A billion scenarios, a billion realms; we never die, do we?