The Beautiful Death.
I often dream of you.
I'm not suicidal,
I'm not a quitter,
and I'm not even sad,
but is it not better to finish life
with happy thoughts
rather than to let despair one day defeat you?
I want to write my own destiny
rather than to become a victim of age;
to be time's slave.
I stand at the hilt of a mountain
looking down on the sea
where the sunlight glistens on the ripples
of fluid flowing glitter.
The fall looks so inviting,
I want to soar strongly
with miles to fall before I sleep.
But not today.
I will write my own beautiful death,
but I have many more years to enjoy my breath.
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