When I will end - like everything must end,
Like fading passions get with follies sorted,
Like values drift in the domain of mortals,
Like most important words remain unsaid,
When I will end, without a page to mar,
Then I will freeze in random recollections
Of wry delights in vivid self-deceptions,
Of masochism that's purified by art.
Or maybe not. I'll crumble to the ground,
With no regrets or memories to cherish,
The rotting flesh will join the chain of food.
I cannot know, while to the earth am bound,
I cannot change the outcome, sad or merry, -
But I can pause while walking through the woods.