I love this poem. Maybe it’s because I relate to the passing away part… maybe it’s because somethings I’ve chosen in my life I know will never die. Writing and leaving my mark on this world with my art will be here after I am gone. The joy, the pain, the memory and experience will be here even when I am not for the read to bear.
Through these caverns
An echo mourns
The passing of a life
Wrought with hope
And the illusion
Of significance
A wordless meaning
Left hanging on
The final stroke
Of a pen
That still bleeds
Even without
The hand
To release
Its suffering
www.fabricthatmademe.com 
It’s good to know there are some things we can leave behind someday. The things we hold dear. Our writing, art—all our God-given talents.
Beautiful poem. 🙂
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