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Poem

The way, in which I lived, so shall I die? 


The sea salt washes up against rocks 
and bleach the stones white 
Like a genuine pearly stone. That when I knew 
Someone was mourning a death. 

The party was going strong 
The doorbell rang. In that moment 
Everything changes. 
Speak low, lean low 
Turn down the tempo 
A sudden death; another wealthy mortal man 
Took his last breathe. 
Did he pass the test? 
Bending over and sniffing the coke 
By the mountain load; 

 Cocaine scattered all over the desk. Money burnt 
How you lived, so shall you die? 
Why cry. That was your life. 
He became the cocaine and 
His mind became retarded 

The salty breeze massages my scalp 
As they soul jump into to the sea 
longing to be cleanses 
Speaking low, leaning low their noses 
Are on fire: another lost soul

Bolivian marching powder 
Drip, drip drops of blood 
Vanish out to sea. 
a different kind of philosophy
The Devil philosophy

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