Death, Be Gentle. Poem by Shueyb Boyer

Take from me only that which i wasted,
desecrate this body if you feel necessary,
but take my soul gently when my time ends and this image is faded,
it was time that existed any ways, so the image you saw was just a mirage in times capsule formulated,
so time was never wasted, but my emotions:
the love and the hate were drastically underestimated.
this body! ? 'my body'! ?
is not my body, there where prophets, kings, dinosaurs and lions that wore it before me,
now you picture me:
a monkey, a donkey, a black sheep, a peasant, a slave or all that's weak, no matter what you picture you could never frame me,
because this body is a vessel my soul determines where the real me will be
so desecrate this body life!
desecrate it if you feel necessary, judge it unfairly or unnecessarily,
hate it, deceive it, or even back bite it, but that wont be me.
So do with this body what you please life!
as long as death takes me gently, life! ? will not phase me