decay

akWilson
1 min readMar 22, 2020

when my lungs no longer breathe

and these brown eyes no longer see

lay me down among these trees

let a time-worn stone my pillow be

drape my limbs with verdant vines

let forest moss grow soft across

and sighing night winds mourn the loss

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akWilson

Writing links beings who might otherwise never connect, and I love that! It is a tool for evolving and moving toward our highest selves.