Nothing Ever Beats This Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Nothing beats it,
The surreal feeling when you’ve had your death.
The kind of death that doesn’t want restoration.
The kind of death that wants more beating.
More scourging.
More defaming.
More abandoning.
Come at me,
Like wolves
Or hyenas,
Better yet vultures.
I am a lifeless carcass.

Devour me.

Now that I have had my time,
Dead for 8 years and counting,
Let’s see how cunning you are.
Let’s see how the heavens
Treat you.

An anguish will never stop.
God does not have favoritism.

Nothing ever beats,
The cold kiss of death
Whilst watching
The fools walk through
Fire,
Thorns,
Furious waves,
Hot sands -

Naked
Lost
Not knowing where to go.

And you’d sigh
In relief,
“Good thing I’m dead.”

It was a good thing.
And I think I don’t want
Them dead -
The people who killed me,

I just want them
To suffer more and more.
Which is likely to happen.

You have a long road
Ahead of you, ladies
And gentlemen.
A winding road
To death.

Enjoy your torture.