My severed head I walk around with.
Look up to me.
While I admire death.
There’s only pain and suffering.
Every once in a while there’s joy.
An abstract beauty in a world of pain.
Well, now it’s poetry to my ears.
To see the great beyond.
I’m here and I’m staying.
I’ve made it.
I guess a sunset is a painting.
There’s a palette of beauty.
In an early death.
Why am I not surprised it happened so fast?
It wasn’t meant to last.
In the dirt.
No one hurt.
Just another skull,
Materializing into earth.