At the end of my life I will know no words

I will no longer sing

I will forget, as I gaze at the stars, that I look to the heavens 

Blankly staring as I drift into a sea of moons

I intend to remember nothing

Names, faces, eyes of a bygone era

I will not think of where I’m going

I will only know where I am

There will be only the things within my grasp

Only the objects I might reach out and touch

I will make past obsolete, future meaningless

I will breathe empty into the deathbeds of time

I suppose I will have regrets

I suppose I have always had regrets

But I will not remember the feeling or know its name

So that nothingness will be my sole keeper until my final breath

And at the end of my life I will know no words

Only the soft sounds of a voice without a face

And the clear images of waves rolling through the stars

Everything I am will be pointless

Except the white crest of the windowsill that I can see

That I will stare at

And never try to remember its name