Chances are a weird number,
Too weird and wired too intricately to be well defined,
It is said chances are you would mostly have to live for a long time,
And there we take it for granted,
Intruding into this wholly complex world,

And rejecting the ideas which do not conform with this reality of ours, Truth is scary, life is fleeting,
Moments ago you were there riding,
And moments later you there laying in dust,
Trying to come back alive,

I am replaceable, you are, we all are,
It is not even about finding an alternative,
It would be about an alternate reality,
Just without us in there, and this very thought is difficult to comprehend,
To understand, to have belief in,

Then why do it, why live through these infinite uncertainties,
Why bother working through it all,
However volatile our existence is,
Still, there is a simple chain to sustaining oneself,
Through others,

You would live, in their lives, in their thoughts,
Yes, you could be forgotten, but lives you impacted would stay,
Your actions would stay, and so would be their consequences,
And in all of them, in some bits and parts, you would stay!