My Hoary Home

My eyes behold bright hues of red tucked warmly here in tufted bed.
This fever burns, my thoughts explode, I drift along death’s dusty road.
Do I deserve such bitter fate, whilst hopeless fools now congregate
around a hole dug deep in Earth? Why was I here, what was my worth?
 

I’ve bled for justice, lived through strife, so confident about my life.
But death will not depart from me, so now I'll go, regrettably.
Not having done all I could do to tend to love, find someone who
would be behind me through it all; I learned quite quick to break the fall.
 

Although I leave here all alone, my heart is full for having known
that you were once so dear to me—that you and I loved endlessly.
Your memory lingers, softly scented, Jasmine wafts, discontented;
sweetness cannot find a place to bequeath such ambrosial grace.
 

Now, light as air, I rise above, my broken dreams, all those I love,
like floating feathers on the wind, that can’t control where currents send
them drifting on, ‘tis now the day, I’ll ne’er return, thus whisked away.
An earthen hollow, deep in loam, will now become my hoary home.