Friday, 9 February 2018



i want to die in the arms of tomorrow
 because papa said,
 in between her breasts hides 
a dewy dawn which promises
 to moisten my withering soul 
with spherical droplets of hope. 
so, seductive suicidal rope, let me alone! 
i have chosen to die in the arms of tomorrow 
when sorrow will be too ashamed 
to attend my funeral and internment;
for mine, will be unlike others- 
a triumphant entry to the grave
with palm fronds of achievements
carpeting the floor on which 
my casket will ride,
galloping away to victory.
oh Suicide, thou friend with a scented accent,
regardless of how convincingly you speak,
i have chosen to die in the arms of tomorrow!

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