the inevitability of its passing,

just as the tides rise and fall

and the sun sets in the west,

so too, will we grow cold

and turn to ash

as the seasons pass over us.

around and around

like a great wheel;

the cyclical nature of our universe.

molecules parting and coming together

to create new wonders.

i imagine that it'll be quiet when i pass,

however maybe that is because

of my propensity to talk more than i should,

say more than i mean to.

i imagine people will remember that of me,

how my ultimate happiness

was found through conversation,

and the bonds that i've made.

so when my voice is gone,

and i've succumbed to an eternity of silence,

think not of the sadness

or my absence,

but instead feel pride.

for you have brought this babbling fool some happiness

by giving him someone to talk to.