Three Components Of A Person

The Inuit whispered in

My dreams, secrets of

What a person is made of,

Young or old, male or female.

They have a soul, a name, and

A body, and only the body dies.

The name drifts among those gifted

With it, and a soul searches indefinitely

For its previous body, now deceased,

Although it is now its own owner.

They told me of an afterlife,

That I would always live,

One way or another, and

Reminded me that you

Can't kill a memory.

The End

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