release

waking up

to death today

was a strange feeling.

everything seemed the same

but i watched from a distance.

it was not

the shadowy self

of dreams.

this was me.flesh and blood.

rotting flesh.and splattered blood.

or limp flesh.no sight of blood.

either way.it mattered not.

There was no heaviness of heart.

couldnt be.afterall.

there's air.and here.with me now.is vacuum.

but thought fosters like a weed.needs nothing.

i know what i shall say

when i meet him -

"Death be not proud."

ah.but in this case.

i see no smirk on his face.

as if saying

a wasted life takes all pleasure

out of death.

a mindless ritual.

thats what i was.

and he parted saying -

"you can thank me later."