Death, Cheated (1)

And when my time comes for a nat'ral death,

Some future era of our shared, shamed land,

I hope and firmly plan that I shall be

Already gone and, I hope, barely missed.

At best, of course, I'd be received by God,

But as it's likely that I'll break His rules,

It seems unlikely. I might be, instead,

Made welcome in the fiery pit below.

-

Alas! I have grave doubt within my heart

That death will be a door to either place.

It's possible--as anything could be--

That I will find myself some other home

In pain or glory, or perplexity.

-

In any case, my body will decay

With all my memories, my hopes and fears,

The clothing of the body and my organs,

And of the soul--all mouldering in turn.

Perhaps, within a grave or random woods,

And Death might show up where I would have been,

Surprised to find me missing; wondering,

"How was I not alerted when she died?"