Atheist

What will be left
After the last drop of rain
When the skies turn their lights off
When I take my dying breath?
What will be left 
Of me and of my world 
That I think is so grand 
And yet it's just another 
In a pile of billions.
We are all sparks 
Who turn to ashes 
When the curtain goes down
And what will be left 
When we blend with the earth
And start our journey 
To become sparks again.
I mean, if you believe in all that
Me? I believe nothing will be left
Of me and my world.
Nothing.
​No heaven, nor hell. No return like a fish, or another human looking to fix what they broke. 
It is thoughts like these that make me wish I was not an atheist.