Edited By: Diedre N. Flora
All I want to do is drift off to sleep
In an empty shallow grave
With no morals or candles lit.
Just drifted ashes amongst the wind's currents -
Don't plaster my soul in a frozen tomb,
Keep it fresh in the stars.
Take the crosses and burn them
With the melted scent of poppies and dandelions.
Carve up no stone -
Don't cover me with dirt.
Just let me drift into heaven's arms.