The Sea Hides My Soul

Burn my bones in a blaze of glory
And throw my ashes in the sea

My pale body will fade away
Into the light of the moon
And my soul will hide in it's shadow
Where the sun never touches
Drifting, floating, in perpetuam,
On the tide of the unknown,
Hanging by the stars in the sky,
With oblivion lurking underneath.
My stringy hair soaked in fear
Being pulled down by the sirens
And the melody that they sing
Is not beautiful
I can hear the agony coiled under their skin
Their talons rip helplessly
And I don't feel it.
My soul is already gone,
My body is a burning ship,
Only the steering wheel is left.
Where was my compass?
I tried to make one
Out of little sharp bones
And the salty tears I cried
Hoping that home might find me instead.
But it is okay.
I will drift listlessly forever.
I am not sad.
Nor am I happy.
I am dead. 
But that energy of my heart lingers,
Hiding where it belongs,
It's on fire with life,
And burning with the passions,
Of my past life.
I am content.
I am not dead.

Reviews

[Hitchhiker]

Ahhh . . . I like the hell out of this. My solution to death is reincarnation, and I'm writing a novel with that as a subplot. I had to look up a word . . . perpetuam . . . Now I know. The afterlife. How many millions of mankind has searched for it. So many have been lulled to the into the Heaven syndrome. If you are one of them I respect how you believe, but my little ten-year-old child in small town, Arkansas questioned some things and got whipped from my parents and shouted at by the preacher. From then on I kept my mouth shut. Again, I liked the poem.