Poets & Poetry

In the cusp of death

It will soon be upon me,
That I cannot deny.
But shall it be my doom,
A fate that I will submit to?
A weak-willed decision,
Of which I shall not take.
If I must go,
Let it be a choice I make.
Let me be a star,
To explode,
To blind,
To destruct, yet create.
The world may not remember me,
That is fine.
But to make myself proud,
Is an adventure worth pursuing.
This is not my final goodbye,
Not hardly.
The world will see my brilliance,
And so shall I.