fade
one fine day
we will lay our burdens down
besides life's rough and random road
and like gypsies light that last fire
and though one of us may walk on
the crocus will grow where our bodies fell
and that rough and diamond road will be
strewed with the delicious joy of our green sprung notion
and the vibrant petals of our being
and of our chromatic going
do not be afraid of death
for pain is a victim of pain
and lingers in its thrall
but face that final truth fading like white quietude
disappearing slowly disappearing
through the languid forming vapours of eventide