Rest My Body In the Know of Mine

I want a plain substandard coffin, Wide enough to contain my wishes, The dreams that danced like fireflies, Flickering in the night of my soul, A much more humbled prospect; A faultless, unadulterated vision, Where simplicity cradles my last breath, And the weight of excess melts away, Like morning mist beneath the sun. I want a bare but pure funeral, An ordinary unembellished service, Where the air is thick with the essence of being, And the echoes of my laughter linger, A soft reminder of a life well-lived. With a short funeral hymn to rest my body, In the soft embrace of the earth, Perfect words worded perfectly, Into the fit painted by another Kline, A brushstroke of grace on the canvas of grief. So when the cries of the remnants of Leteng bong, Resound like a distant thunderstorm, Goaded by emotions so strong, They hum a little song, A melody of memories and whispers, A gentle lullaby for the weary heart, A short funeral hymn to rest my body, In the know of mine,