Death's Monologue

[Verse 1]

Death, I’ve come to think,

is not an ending—

but a quiet transition,

a doorway always waiting

for the hand that turns the knob.

The body tempers,

breath rides on the wind,

and the heart, once a ticking clock,

becomes the soil’s soft hymn.

[Pre-Chorus 1]

I walk through graves like galleries,

names carved into time—

every stone a life once burning,

every echo still alive.

[Chorus 1]

When I go, don’t box me in,

don’t seal me from the earth,

I was always meant to feed the soil—

to cycle… and to merge.

Let me be a tree, not a tomb,

roots where my veins have been,

give what’s left of me away—

let me live again.

[Verse 2]

Marble angels, laughing lines,

“I was here,” they softly say,

tiny human attempts at forever

etched where bodies fade away.

There’s something in that—aching,

the need to still be known,

to reach beyond the silence

and say, “I wasn’t alone.”

[Pre-Chorus 2]

But I fear the quiet under grass,

preserved and locked in place—

a body kept from becoming

what the living world could take.

[Chorus 2]

When I go, don’t box me in,

don’t seal me from the earth,

I was always meant to feed the soil—

to cycle… and to merge.

Let me be a tree, not a tomb,

roots where my veins have been,

give what’s left of me away—

[Bridge]

Energy doesn’t disappear—

it shifts, it turns, it grows,

from breath to flame, from dust to leaf,

from endings into roads.

So wrap me in something gentle,

lay a maple seed on my chest,

let the rain become my heartbeat,

let the roots complete the rest.

[Final Chorus]

When I go, don’t box me in,

don’t seal me from the earth,

I was always meant to feed the soil—

to cycle… and to merge!

Let me be a tree, not a tomb,

let me rise in wind and sun,

I will give myself to life again—

this is not the end I become.

[Outro]

And maybe… when I’m earth and leaf…

I’ll feel the rain again…

and know I have lived...

and loved…

in every form I’ve been.