Gone

The time is right
the clock ticked
once last
stopped for me
to run it long down
turn

My consciousness
is ripped away and
unidentified quietness
implanted into “me”

The body is
frozen by still
like outdated
stale costume

My soul is flying
over its recent inn
The vital memories felt
so oddly
and beautiful
in internal taste

Every involvement
has fail the test
to prove its significance
and outlived important
weight

It’s time to gather
my past live
scattered keepsakes
carry them gently
till arrive to the mandated place

I guess it’s all over
at this paradoxically state
“Dear beloved
I love you don’t
grieve…”

It won’t be easy
but I have to clear
this obscured shape
and be gone in
40 days