When I die, sing.
Fill whole circles of white dressed
men and women who raise their voices.
Let the leaves echo with your disgust and
When I die, dance.
Carve whole circles of smoothed out
stone and sand which draw a sigil.
Let the earth remember your feet and
When I die, etch.
Sand out a multitude of sheer, black
dolmens and obelisks that bear a sentence.
Let the air endlessly caress the words and
forever repeat the only truth I had while living:
No one can be saved.