there is nothing
wrong with
believing that when we
die
we simply return
to our
original nature
atomic particles
reduced neurons
roving neutrons
simply
untangled from
a body
it can be harsh
it can be truthfully harsh
but i am given
a choice
whether to be
literal or
figurative
whether to see
a landscape
or simply an
array of
random particles
floating in
air in silence
meaninglessly
what makes me distinct
is my imagination
as of now i am
a body
with all my senses
on
when i die
i can still be
a flying spirit
unseen
and still as
beautiful as
i think myself
to be
even if death
reduces me into
atomic particles
i can still
dance in the
mystery of
my own
fantasy
i refuse to be
simply
a meaningless set
of dust
beneath the
feet of
this earth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem