Sense Sonnet - Acher

Pondering Poet

This poet likes to ponder death.
This constant, it does not rhyme well.
What happens after that last breath.
Is it really heaven or hell?
Or is it just a nothingness
That goes on for eternity?
I fall asleep and dream, I guess
Of when I die, then what will be.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
No more my body, real or ghost.
Just a fading memory, just
A pondering poet, almost.

I think this is a dream. Instead,
I ponder if I'm really dead.