DEATH

 Death may have a meaning beyond what we understand.

A definition that is not yet known.
Maybe it's some evidence,
Some signs,It came from somewhere else that we cannot yet consciously understand.
They say no one knows the moment death will come. It just… happens. And when it does, no one is ever truly prepared—there are no perfect words, no guidebook.
But something shifts. Suddenly, the person we loved is no longer here in the way we knew them. Yet somehow, the relationship continues. It changes shape.
Like…I still talk to my mother. I still wonder what she'd say about something, what advice she'd give my sister, or what gentle wisdom she’d want to pass to my daughter. And sometimes—I swear—they answer back. In dreams, in songs, in flickering lights or a feather on the floor. Little signs that whisper, I’m still here dummy!
Losing someone you love shatters something inside you. It’s a pain that words can’t carry. It’s the silence after their laugh disappears. The emptiness in rooms they once filled. The ache that rises in waves when you remember they’re not coming back.
People may say it’s all in our minds, just memory or grief playing tricks—but I don’t buy that. Because even without scientific proof, even without language to explain it, we know. In our bones, in our hearts—we know.
They say no one knows the moment death will come. It just… happens. And when it does, no one is ever truly prepared—there are no perfect words, no guidebook.
But something shifts. Suddenly, the person we loved is no longer here in the way we knew them. Yet somehow, the relationship continues. It changes shape.
Like…I still talk to my mother. I still wonder what she'd say about something, what advice she'd give my sister, or what gentle wisdom she’d want to pass to my daughter. And sometimes—I swear—they answer back. In dreams, in songs, in flickering lights or a feather on the floor. Little signs that whisper, I’m still here dummy!
Losing someone you love shatters something inside you. It’s a pain that words can’t carry. It’s the silence after their laugh disappears. The emptiness in rooms they once filled. The ache that rises in waves when you remember they’re not coming back.
Love is observable, powerful,
It has to mean something even when you can't see it.
Love doesn’t end. Presence doesn’t always mean physical. And those we’ve lost , Sometimes, they call out to us too.
What role do signs and memories play in coping with the loss of someone close, according to the text?
In the end,
How long do we have to wait until a scientist can record the relationship between living and dead humans, or until someone finally returns from the dead and answers our questions!!