WILLING & LOOSING

 

Death be not proud,

Death is a shroud,

A shroud of your own choosing,

So right now are you winning or loosing?

 

Death will come with certainty,

It will come to you all sleepily,

But if you are one, cast in vision

Distinguishing the view from some prison.

 

Life gives time to consider,

Earnestly, with pasts and stops (?), so gingerly,

Some may rest, country – (?)

But wisdom is space and position.

 

So here you are,

Facing the transition,

Muttering opiatically,

Whatever was your vision.

 

During life a chance to get

Living hard, clearly beset,

Did you choose the nothingness,

The opiate and blunderbuss?

 

Did you choose a vision when,

This part was called a prison for men (?)

But later on they say,

It is easily and honestly said.

 

Saw my vision’

Lived it proper

Despite revision by deriding sophists,

Guess they experiences something similar,

Not connected to this criminal.

 

Their prison may have been,

Eerily cool, you know what they say,

My vision may have been,

Quickly rated, so, then,

 

Death from about chose life,

Free flowing intermingling souls,

So we made the soviet haze,

Death be not proud and because I choose

 

While they lay in a box,

Unlike crazies,

We’re in the dark,

Pushing up daises.