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Poem

A Beautiful Death

High on a hill hidden by shrubs
I am embraced by the branches of trees
I am worshiped by nature
I hide from the exhaustion of humanity’s harassment
I am safe from the horrendous appetite of others
Here comes a high-priced counselor hollering about an inheritance bequeath by my ancestors
He does not pay homage to the harmonic hum of creation
He swats at the harmless honeybees hovering in non-threating swarms
He fails to hear the healing hymns shared by my Father
He has hunted me down to handover hundreds and thousands worth of useless currency
How did he find me?
He is horrified when I asked him to keep his check
Instead…give me what the Spartans called “A beautiful death.”

When moments of melancholy manipulate my mind
I remain in my imagination
Where merry memories as a minor make me remember mere minutes of mirth
Immediately I am reminded of how miserable my millennium has become
My emotions seem meaningless
My time on Mother Earth, a mistake
Remarkably my mood mutates
And I ask My Lord for mercy;
Remove me from this realm
And give me what the Spartans call “A beautiful death.”

Quietly in my coffin—tricked into wearing a tux
A comical smirk marks my mask
I could have collapsed on a corner
Countless wouldn’t have noticed
One more cigarette would have been nice—
Because cancer did not caress my corpse
So-called companions circle my casket
Consoling each other with questions
They are all concerned… “Suicide?” they asked
They sincerely think they could have rescued me
From the epic conclusion of my existence
Their cold-hearts in chaos—they are infected with karma
Could The Creator resurrect me back to collect compensation for their cruelty?
I would decline
Let me relax in peace 
And keep what the Spartans call “A beautiful death.”

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