Literature
The end
Not until the rain resists,
Nor before the grass drips dry,
Only after the flowers bloom,
Will I give my last goodbye,
In line next after autumn,
The fall leafs first to commit,
Always letting things behind me,
Cut between my turn to quit,
Like soaps and shampoo bottles,
I must first deplete bare,
While I raincheck and postpone,
All my intentions to get there,
Hang on until my birthday,
There, I will let me let go,
Then hold off until sunrise,
Where more delays shall show,
The edge to exit temps me,
To invite early my death,
Instead I welcome healing,
Prior to my final breath,
Not before the next full moon,
And the stars have all aligned,
Only may I let myself leave life,
If I first change my mind.
