This, then still
There he lies.
The stench of death,
It lingers by ...
It is the death,
The one, he,
has longed for.
Now, I will rob him.
Of the death.
The good death.
Soon will come the EMT,
The ambulance too.
The stench of death,
Tobe removed,
from his room.
As will he.
Doctors, their will be
And hospitals, too
Soon,
To be replaced,
By another, Room
In another, Place.
A living death,
With no stench,
Just desire, unfulfilled
The good death,
I robbed him of,
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I love to collect thoughts. I would love to collect some of yours, if they are mindful and respectable.