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Let me be forgotten by posterity. An old worn black-and-white photo showing a group of unnamed people that family members look at during reunions though they can’t ever remember just exactly who was who. Let my words be overlooked and dismissed like doggerel scribbled on napkins then quickly abandoned and later used for kindling to tempt the flames in a fireplace on a cols winter’s night. Let my voice be erased like an overused tape leaving only sustained blank hissing to remind that thoughts were once spoken here. Let my life’s work crumble into ruin carelessly eroded by the ceaseless tides of time that spills over and then through the countless sandcastles of individual existence. Let the very memory of me become only a memory in the fading imagination of a slumbering universe where sleep turns quickly into death leaving me simply as one who is no more. And when I am finally unremembered maybe then I too can forget that this world is what it seems to be: a hurtful, hateful place where people carve apart the souls from bodies of men and women and children. And themselves. Until in ultimate hypocrisy they scapegoat God judging him as guilty for the wicked, wounded world their very hands have made.
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