When death comes,
I won’t pull the thorns out her spine,
I’ll let her pour herself into me
For my feet and hands are soiled,
I’ll fight,
I’m too hard-headed to go out easily,
When she takes me,
Earth will shake
She’ll weep and light up the sky,
The sky will shatter into pieces,
Earth and heaven will glimpse at each other,
For a daughter has drowned in her own blood
Youth might be written over me in the 84 by 28 box,
Cold but loud,
Gone but present.

In the hallways of purgatory,
I’ll creep back to you in dreams,
Telling you about the mysteries of life,
Revealing the secrets of the seven heavens,
Opening the boxes of the one who weaves and the one who unweaves,
Traveling to heaven and hell,
Investigating and researching,
I’ll show you the lies we’ve been told,
How we’ve painted the weaver in costumes they didn’t want,
Your base will shatter
Earth will crack and purge itself,
You’d wish I didn’t go,
You’d beg death to bring me back,
But he’ll be refuse,
He’ll tell you,
How everything that’s been weaved
Has to be unwoven.

You won’t be satisfied,
You’ll cling to doctrine and superstition,
Death will come for you
And you’d find me in the halls
Special unit of the afterlife,
We’ll tell them again through dreams but they won’t believe,
One after the other,
They’ll join our unit,
Till we all know the truth about the truth of life.

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THANK YOU FOR READING!

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WRITTEN BY: MARIAM ALAYANDE

ART BY: JOHNSON TSANG