Bury me amid the winter waves
A poem

When I die bury me amid the winter waves of some tempestuous sea, where I shall join unruly souls like mine, who gazed upon foaming waters and knew smallness yet stood steadfast against that brusque wind, feeling the chill but also the rush of existence, wanting and hungering to be at one with such unyielding force despite discomfort upheaval uncertainty fear—
leave me among those destined to never rest, discontent and insatiable, forever yearning for what comes next, who took to the wilds of soul and silence and sensation, longing not for reprieve ease numbness or apathy, but determined to find home within the roiling icy swells of life, and to know peace amid the thunderous churn, and to feel damn well everything there is to feel until the end of time at least — and perhaps just a little while more.
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