Death is my friend.
We lie together on the ocean blown sand.
He is my gentle guide and saint.
He's rocked in my arms, and burrowed in my heart.
I found him playing in my crade, when I was just born.
Death is so loved by me,
Even his non-living ways.
As living as I may be,
Death has seen life and death.
Because I have death glam,
My friend looks sweet.
I lie underneath the apple tree with a heart beating
with gladness.
With one whose heartbeat doesn't exist.
But now I must stand up and leave him be,
So I walk in the opposite direction.
Death is a sweet friend,
But I'd rather meet him one day
Far in a distant time,
Then he'll be mine, a friend close to me.
Then I'll be just like him,
Hand in hand, this time matching eath other
Vera Sidhwa
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-is-my-friend/
