I Long For a Pauper's Grave
When I depart from the realm of the terrestrial
for the splendour of the celestial,
do not bury my remains in the valley of the kings,
for robbers would move my bones in search of gold rings.
I detest sharing the glory of the blue bloods with them in death,
but I would like my moulded clay buried in the worm infested
earth,
where it would nourish both worm and field,
and help moisture revive mother earth's withered yield.
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