I die a death no one could resurrect me from No dust could rot my body to dust No grave stone could ever give me no honor Nor flowers could perfume nor grass could embellish.
I die a death of all the dying and the decaying Of all the woes of the living; And when they excavate my bones of words From my sepulcher of our forgotten histories They'll only find two things: Your words I etched on the underside of my nails, and your name chafed deep on the inside of my lips-- I will wail-- The soil of the Earth will first hear it, Then the echoes would spiral up the roots of every tree And they too will die of my misery, That I have been dead yet dying still Since the day you abandoned me lonely.
My own burial I visit Days that come after that Over and over and over and over --- and over and over and over
Dead and forever dying, My heart and its yearning for our love-- Dead, and forever dying.