Four pails of water and a bagfull of salts

That is all we are, that is all a man comprises,
chemicals alone, with no spirit, soul or ghost -
nothing so bizarre
No amount of faith disguises
what is true is what we fear the most

Nothing can survive
save the things men leave behind them
Any other case would be really too absurd -
if thoughts remained alive
surely modern science would find them?
No, the soul is nothing but a word

All the wonders Man achieves
emerge from cerebral tissue
Chemical reactions' ebb and surge
form that Thing that is you
It's a sad philosophy,
but better sad than wrong
Face the truth instead:
when you're dead you're dead,
when you're gone you're gone
now she's gone

Four pails of water and a bagfull of salts

That is all she was, all my lover represented -
that sounds just as mad as saying she will never die
Fools may clutch at straws
but truth must not be circumvented:
as the tree falls, so must that tree lie!

Now that sounds so odd
once I would have preached it brightly
Now questions appear I rationally can't ignore
Nothingness or God,
Which of them seems more unlikely?

Once I would have answered clearly,
now I only think I'm nearly sure

(Chris Judge Smith