When I die, I ask of you to not burn me.
I ask you find me a plot of land to lay my head
For I have found love in the light of the sun.
When I die, I ask my funeral be an outdoors affair.
Sit me in my open casket and think of me fondly.
Do not cry, for you will disgrace me.
When I die, I ask the doors and windows of my home be opened for my soul to sore,
For I'm sure i was happy there, and there my spirit shall dwell
When I die, cover all the mirrors of my abode with fabrics,
So that my soul will find its way to the skies instead of being trapped behind glass.
I ask you all be merry and rejoice
For I know not where I shall be,
But my nomadic soul will be forever happy
When I no longer plagued by my hatred and insanity
When I die, i ask you still love me.
What is right from wrong?
What is worth keeping from what’s meant releasing?
From a dark veil you hide
Obligated, you abide
A silent prison you call home
That’s life in this dome
Wield by a strong patrol
Withheld by unyielding control
Flying has a price
It always has, a bounty to arise
By a driven force
Subside our hunger course
From the will to adapt
For what’s just right, we tap.
Some things are our guidance, but it doesn’t meant to withheld us from swimming.
i think this link will explain what is meant by this piece
Small town; country town.
I walk slowly.
As the autumn breeze blows coldly,
Through my clothing.
Small town; golden town.
He found me,
Just when I thought no one was listening.
I was intrigued to see that he loved me,
More than I loved myself.
And the emotions that I felt,
I couldn't express for myself,
But he felt it for himself all the same.
Small town; old town.
Everyone stopped and starred ,
Because the time was finally near.
The bridegroom was finally here,
But their smiles disappear,
And their faces fill with fear.
The bridegroom comes down,
But is not in a gown.
Instead, he stands proud with his man
All I've ever wanted was to be a real boy; fall in love like the rest of the world. :):):(
my mother insists
she was never a witch
but she gave me a bag of amethyst,
my family is heavily connected to the practice of witchcraft, and my atheist mother insists that she was never a part to it. in part because the rest of my family insists that they are just 'catholic with some personal traditions'. i've gone a little off the deep end with it, not gonna lie, but it makes me feel better about the world and that's something.
Against layers of western pop and soulful jazz,
I find myself yearning for the sound
of traditional music
These ears know well
the tune that reminds them of home.
My blood dances
to the thumping of the tabla,
the melodious clash of castanets
and plucking of strings on leathered guitars.
Traditional music is the voice
of my silenced ancestors;
and the treasure that is the legacy
they have left behind for us.
Each night I will remind myself
of the beauty of Algeria
and the sound that vibrates its fertile soil
and resonates in my heart.
Reaching out to hold the hands
of those who came before me;
we stand united by the melody
of our anthem.
— The End —