Be Read – 2026 Revisited

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BE READ — 2026 Revisited

Why is it when we are dead
That finally we can be read?

Stretched upon that cold table,
No more secrets left to label.

The mortician takes position,
Searching for the final condition.

What brought the body to this place?
What illness left its final trace?

Every scar, each hidden thread,
Tells a story now you’re dead.

They stitch the pieces back together,
Preserving what remains forever.

Embalming fluid fills the veins,
While silence settles over pain.

And now you’ve finally been read—
Every reason you became dead.

Isn’t it strange how life can hide
What death eventually reveals inside?

All the ailments you defended,
All the battles never ended.

Reduced to stillness, like a doll,
While someone else now knows it all.

Why is it when we are dead
That finally we can be read?

No more secrets left to keep,
No more words buried underneath.

The table waits. The room is still.
Death has finished what life could not fulfill.

And there it is, the final thread—

You have now been read.

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