If death was sold in stores nearby,
I’d smile at the clerk and softly sigh,
“I wish to find my final rest.”
He’d glance at the shelves, then gently ask,
“Which shade makes you feel so starkly vast?”
With a small smile, I’d simply jest,
“None but black feels right for my last quest.”
He’d box up death, with a black ribbon tied,
Hand it with a smile, no need to hide.
In that moment, I’d quietly fade,
Embracing the end, my choice was made.
Critics
Dive into the evocative world of Hirbod Human, an Iranian American writer, filmmaker, and philosopher, through his latest poem. This stirring piece explores the profound theme of seeking solace in the finality of death, presented with a blend of contemporary language and timeless emotion. Join us in experiencing the depth of Human's poetic expression as he navigates the complex interplay of desire, acceptance, and the ultimate quest for peace.
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