Noise

To make noise
What other purpose must there be
surely to live in ecstasy, but when it all dies out
all you have left is the sound you made
as you fall through the solid floor

so foolish of you to believe in immortality
but right you were as you are immortally restful

The sad truth is that you will make no more noise
Noise you made as a child screaming
Noise you made while laughing loud
Noise you made crying low
Noise you made when gasping when applauded
Noise you made as whimpers when defeated
Noise you made with handshakes when about
Noise you made with heartbeats when alone
Noise you made with music on the floor
Noise you made with family once more
Noise you made to bring chaos
Nose once more to bring your order

noise is a state function
it wont matter how we did it or how far we took it
it will return to the abyss of nothingness when left unaltered
when immortality of rest begins
only your silent noise will continue
and the universe will become that much more silent
until eventually there is nothing to hear but nothing itself
and all of a sudden we realize, its all the same noise as before
just everywhere
and for once we accept impossibility of retrieving the noise
which is why we will cease to hear our noise once it is long and gone.

This is why we write books
imprint our names in the snow humorously
and graffiti on walls

We desperately replace the noise to last a bit longer hoping to be picked up once more and continued or to end in a whimper once more.

Isn't this a question of life?