Pyre

Inspired by a fellow poet's poem of how all things turn to dust.

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1. Pyre

Serene upon the pyre still a virgin from flame, beneath me the masterpiece of architecture lies completed, constructed of logs and pride, these wooden hands cradle my lifeless form lovingly, and are designed for me.

Would rather go out this way than become the latest member of the graveyard gang, clutching my unlimited pass and being allowed to roam the same corners forever more, no stone angels shall stand guard over my bones - none need to protect the handwritten sentiments left in memory, just throw my ashes to the winds, Nature herself can guide me.

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