One wish do i beseech thee. When i wither, sprinkle fine roses upon my carcass As i dream a dreamless sleep with a frail smile In my marble tomb Where a framed severed head called sin, Hangs above my bed, For she could not hold me nor pierce my armor coated in faith in Yeshua.
Shed no tears. I leave thou with gifts wrapped in fond memories For thee to hold dear, To hath on repeat, Whenever thou ache my absent.
I pray thy days become ancient; Planting seeds after thy kind, For this rotten slum yearns Selfless sunshines to shine their sanguine beams Unto the lost, Imprinting he who saves Unto their shattered vases, Mending their fragments Dashed by the serpent Altogether, Whole again.