There are thoughts you won’t finish.
There are words you won’t say.
There are hugs and kisses you will never give.
There is laughter that will fall silent.
There are tears that will have long dried.
Your infinite imagination will end.
There is food in your refrigerator you won’t eat.
Drinks you won’t drink.
Games you won’t play.
Books you will never finish.
Questions you will never have answered.
There will be no new questions.
No curiosity.
No observation.
No thinking of any kind.
You will be inert but not unworkable.
That which remains with you will take its course.
You will no longer be you.
It will be all that was left of what you once were.
And even that remnant of you will end, too.