The Last Piece Poem by Nima Tharchen

One a worn out paper he wrote
His most honest work, his suicide note
The words blurry the ink work mostly bloated because of his tears
And the spill of sprinkles of rum and beers
‘I was born a Buddhist and I am dying as one
This action is the worst sin I have done
It is the worst of all crimes
As Buddhist, I must repeat the same death a 500 times
But, I pray to god that my last death mime
I wish was my 500th time
Killing your self is not easy
The rum and the beer came in handy
I took my own last breath
Because it seemed easier that death
Could out win seeing my wife with another man in Bed
I would rather see the deaths frightful color
Than my wife with another
I would rather hear deaths dreadful summon ‘
Than have her seen in bed with someone
I would choose deaths chilling touch any day
Then tolerate her infidelity for another day’