peace in death
kill me in this ungodly hour,
i will rot till sunlight strikes my face.
eternal rest appears as peace in silk cloth,
skin in all nakedness that makes of my body.
shall i have ivy bloom from my lungs?
or would vines rather sprout out my eyes?
either way what beauty that is to behold!
of blood like summer wine,
of bone like white maggot,
i do not care, i can not mind.
the rain will wash away the remnants of my soul,
and my very existence will be limited,
for i am promised the gift of being perceived only in the eyes of time.
-NN
