The Epitaph of my Legacy
The epitaph of my legacy will read like a slave.
Uneducated and dark surfaced.
Never to be read at all.
My legacy shall be everlasting,
my legacy be eternal.
I am the seed of a forever growing tree.
One whose leaves are never to fall.
And One whose rings are never to be counted.
I am immortal.
Dipped in the river of Styx, ankles and all.
I be no Achilles.
I be got shot in the ankle and lived.
My Greek be no mythology.
They call me evergreen.
I be father times spouse when Mother Nature gets tired.
I be the one who caused all my peers’ minds to be rewired.
I be done outlived my peers.
I be done outlived my face.
I be done outlived my ears.
I be my own legacy.
I be done outlived my legs you see.
The epitaph of my legacy will read like a canvas.
That of a musician – with no paint.
It be blank!
It be done testing the ranks of future generations.
It be so future it’s out of your imagination.
It be past this galaxy.
It be done caught the attention of every star and every cloud you see.
The epitaph of my legacy be euphoria.
It be ecstasy.
It be cloud nine standing in the flesh right here next to me.
It be red orange yellow blue green.
Made out of colors you can’t quite conceive.
You see, the epitaph of my legacy be a figment of your imagination.
The epitaph of my legacy be no man made creation.
My legacy will have no letters, numbers, or symbols engraved in its tombstone.
My legacy will have no tombstone.
My legacy will live forever.
My legacy will have no epitaph.
The epitaph of my legacy will be like imagining
the opposite of condensation.
The epitaph of my legacy – be an evaporated thought.