The only peace I see is death,
the death of the past buried in the present,
the death of self kept in the tomb of humility
and everything that stinks covered in ashes.
What a sweet repose
to rest in the castle of death
And taste the wine of peace
that flowed never to cease.
Death, a dreaded beast
has become my living spring.
It quenches every dart of evil
and brings growth beyond civil.
Life itself is death
masked in the daily quest of survival.
I die for death to make me live
and transform all the deaths in me.
In death my excesses is curbed,
my dreaded passion and will absorbed.
All that wrestle my progress dissolved,
my fears and worries destroyed.
I long to die to pride
and rise on the humble side.
I long to die to divide
and rise on the unity tide.
That I may die in piece
and be raised ne’er to cease.
Where my best shall wake
to a plain of deeds unshaken.
Bemoaning death pangs
tend to crush my being.
But its drill and pain,
shall shape my mind anew.
Waiting for my decay and rise,
I shall break forth in newness.
And split in precious bits
sizeable and refilled with energy.
Sailing through the sea of death,
shall bring me to a treasured harbour.
A place of solace and rest,
to bless the rest with my latest form.