(Not) Goodbye
Gods
This is not goodbye.
But we all know
I’ll still cry.
For the identity theft.
Milky-white pearl tears shed
over ego’s death rattle.
But I think…
my psyche died a good death,
Be it
an (un)clean death.
Strapped to a tree fighting to the rancorous end.
Liberation bought by blunt blade.
But my Gods,
This is not goodbye
Because we all know
Sometime soon
Prodigally stooping, I’ll return,
I always return.
Then it’s aye
Not
Goodbye
Till I come home again.