Dim sparks of last hope
Writhing soul pleads to be free
Live to die at home
Death is like soul changing clothes ? Why does it matter if it's at home or someplace else i wonder. I have seen a lot of people wishing they die in the familiarity of their home, they have lived forever in. Why and how does that give the satisfaction of leaving i muse!
This Haiku is written for THE MAG and the Haiku Heights.