Don'T Mourn
Burn me
in the hour of brightness,
floating in my pyre
alone.
Lay with me
all I love-
nonhuman.
Set in
the oaken craft,
(crypt),
I drift towards
openness,
as flaming arrows
lofted at me
ignite
my longship
in a spectacle
of sorrow,
freeing me to enter
Valhalla.
Horns sound off
my requem
as waves pull me out
to the abyss,
blazing
as bright as a star.
As the flames die down
I rise
out of my ashes.
I discard
my human ties
as all upon the shore
stand silent
and happy.
Copyright © Mark Matthews | Year Posted 2008
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