I died last night; a beautiful death it was
The body of bodies transmuted, and the
soul of souls rest to die and fight.
The spirit world I went and the fight fought
to cease no more.
Body laid now in my bed; Wuloo could not
reach my hands,
I died before she came; it was a beautiful death
Dad, brothers, sisters, uncles and aunts; cousins
friends, lovers and associates, nieces, nephews
tried faster, but met me not.
I died and died again, Wuloo could not see my
Funny? Yes! They asked for my corpse, cremation
was the answer. I died last night, but my ideas
refused to die.
I agreed to ashes for ashes; I was made of ashes,
of steel-made of water, not mud!
Then thrown to the sea as coming home means
flooding the land to quake.
Alas, the quake buried in my flood; yet I died!
My ideas refused to die.
My death last night was beautiful that no one
wept because the day I came there was joy.
Ashes spread to the birds that the sea sang
and sang songs in prose; my poetry became the
That dancers refused to stop-a death it was that
I smiled in the shadow of my death; everyone
I smiled and smiled the dance to die. And the death died. My ideas refused to die.
No, I died the last night that my ideas refused to
die; I died for real as it was. Sadly I refused to die
because I am here to germinate at the sea banks.
Because they thought I died, I am here to die no
more...by cremation I smiled through death that I was
not dead. No, they thought I died!
Really? Really? Really? Really? Really? Really?
Mmmmmm, I died. It was fun; my ideas refused to die; my ideas refused, my ideas refused to die!
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