The Release

my body turned cold and pale that day 
on the day i gave up the ghost 
what breed of truth in human poetry 
could here express what means the most 
in a world and time of relegation 
of taste, touch, see and feel 
if my beating heart becomes negation 
to an earth divorced from what is real 
then build for me a funeral pyre 
and send me up in flames 
watch me blanketed in fire 
resigning to the gods - our names 
will deify us here 
or demonize, demoralise 
i am paralysed with fear 
at the thought of meaning nothing 
to the ones i leave behind 
yet i, for one, will never cease to hold them in my mind 
so lay me on the funeral pyre 
and bathe me in the flames 
for in my heart, you are deified 

you've cut into the spirit skin, your names.