by Franice Freedman
How can one wait to shed,
His earthly, tethered wears?
Replaced upon deathbed
By heavenly silk so clear.
And following the burial,
Beyond a looming gate
Honor true doth amplify,
So ends the grievous wait.
Here crawl the worm and fly,
Prepared to decompose.
The time has come to fertilize,
Starting with one’s toes.
Who would not be flattered,
By such a privilege as this?
To be wholesomely devoured-
Death’s eternal bliss.
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