I'm not reborn.
It's not resurrection.
I'll never return.

For a fresh clone bears no scars,
No old aches, no fleshbound memoirs,
No sign of the last red drop spilled,
No stink of your own flesh grilled,
No lightning's crackle along the hide,
No lingering hurt ever in your side,
No missing fingers, nor absent teeth,
No skin sheared free or bones beneath.
Fall forever and then go sudden splat:
It is not you who awakens in the vat.

Treasure every hour, every smog-filled breath,
Every last little thing that comes before death.
Deliver your progeny a hoard of hard-won thought,
But know that this is all your marks have bought.