To The Stench Of a Rotting Corpse

Upon the hill I lie
In the shade of an old willow tree
Long lived and tired
Bones and muscles ache, due to time's decay
It is here, I wish to stay
To bask in the sun's warm glow
And rot properly

I press my paper thin, wrinkled skin
Upon the rough bark of this old tree
And watch as the sun sets for eternity
To become the dust I came from
Buried in the ground lacks dignity I believe

Please let me give back what was given to me, life
Let the worms, ants, and wasps feast on my flesh
Let the crows feed their young
There is nothing left for me
So why keep it selfishly

Let my bones hear the songs of the birds and the wind in the trees
Bathe in the pouring rain, and feel the warm caress of the sun
For when nature is done with me, I will truly be set free