When I die, let me not in any state lay.
Throw me into the blazing inferno at the crematorium.
Pour my ash in the gutters at the sanitorium.
Let my bodily fluids run in the silty drain nigh.
Withered are the garlands of valiance,
That were unmoved by storms' invariance.
And untamed by the steady march of time,
Rime ice and hoar frost of a cold lifetime.
This body is no more a useful one.
My breath, oh my breath is gone.
Blood and lymph have no more care.
For my soul is on a new quest out of here.
I am gone from sorrow and tragedy.
To take this message over the moon.
Down the valleys, through the woods.
Across the oceans' waters to the family.
In the hidden parts of your eyes and mind
You must keep me, our times of joy, you to remind.
For I have ridden the winged chariots of fire
To bestow upon those who still have life's desires.
This soul transcends the body, the trappings of material things remain unnecessary to an unfettered soul. Deep stuff.
This soul shall undoubtedly be a peace.