Leaving

Your angels of death were lurking
At the doors of my mortal skin
Saying, "Come, suffer no more pain."
Highest Lord, hear me words. Grant it.
I wish no flowers on my grave
Nor river of tears when I'm gone
For my leaving is their gladness;
My name a curse cannot be done.
Say no sweet words on my headstone
Neither marble to cloak me corpse.
You might not ask but I will tell
The reason of what I'm wishing.
Them I longed for when still breathing
But gave no heart made for loving.
Now I want timber very strong
So my stench won't be reeking hate
Reminding them of love in songs
But its true form is out-of-date.
Is living very long enough
Worthy a bit of afterlife?
If so, give me decades a few
Or a good place to start anew.
I'll now hold Hecate's cold hand
And put to rest this tired old heart.
Cause of death: being torn apart.