Beyond the grave

The almost perpetual dark is occasionally
broken only by ghostlike mists of dully
glowing aether.
Is it perhaps the nature of things that
darkness should prevail in the existence
beyond the grave?
To remember what you were is hard when
you are nothing and there is no one to
remind you.
What would you not give to see the world
of the living again? Sadly, that life is only
a faint memory now.
The dreams of what was still linger on
though. Hope is the last thing to die,
even for the dead.