(any resemblance between averred one laid
to rest and yours truly...purely coincidental
regarding unnamed person liberated
into heavenly glade!)

though innocently youthful looking air
at three score year,
or so the trumpeting "FAKE" mirrored reflection
(animated, sans Alexa) programmed tube lear
and spout, one most familiar Shakespeare
refrain (frequently misinterpreted) wherefore
art thou Romeo, really translates as
“Why did you have to be a Montague?”

no matter living to max,
I did not accrue
hoping to lyft mine uber last dying wish,
no matter body besotted, kissed,
and riddled with ague
spirit fights futile demise submerging
into bone a fied underworld brew,
any bargain exhausted with grim reaper

past hour to argue
lifelessness accorded ritual
traversing along deathly
other mortals traversed, paved,
and hallowed avenue
sudden agedness tolled
danse macabre league
with trumpeting battue

rigor mortis in toto
human flesh turned blue
oddly starved of wrinkles
thee only cherished clue
that perhaps...key expiration
coroner did misconstrue
bah...false alarm let somber retinue
solemnly proceed so poet can continue

pointless against corpse
dead letter diktat to counterargue,
nor against cosmic creator
can one countersue,
or expect miraculous success cue
wing sudden resurrection,
when biological processes
particularly brought to halt by dengue

fever, and rendering void
erroneous, unlikely mistaken
death sentence, hence sigh continue
and marvel quiet eternal repose
avails most pronounced distingue
lying in state (within coffin)
pulling out all shortstops
guaranteeing her/his endue

perhaps casket sealed with
decedent's favorite chiffon fondue
unsure what grim missing fate will ensue,
asper the (soul) surviving,
perhaps reincarnated within
commencement of fescue
as verdant leaves of
wit man ask grass

or if cremated...surely
spiritual embodiment freed thru flue
but no matter,
(je ne sais quois) glue
thee only I French I knew
before bidding dearly departed
may dog bless ye - adieu!

Pines littered my unlively heart, once a rooted place; with branches of family, sprouts nothing more than unwanted pain.
Trees filtered the rain and hale, marching upon my veins; leaves wither now, roaming a terrain of deserts and unanswered lies.
Tumbleweeds, each one of a kind, bellow in the wind that dried my brain, refraining the saplings from hope, holes built in my body for no other process than causing emptiness, a sense of memory that was once before.
Not anymore, I feel nothing.
I do nothing.
I am nothing.
I'm inhumane, unwillingly walking to the past; lurking from the windows, one broken and one stained, I know now that my hurt was never tamed.
It just laid,  pulsing through my feet; hiding as I am now, you hear a sound from outside, a purposeful blow from the wind.
There goes my brain.
There goes my pain.
Goodbye-