Boat the oars
Boat the oars and bewildered lie
in your gently creaking casket;
view the flowering stars
without clarity or curiosity.
Shatter your sword. Give up
your one shot at redemption.
Abjure the bindings of every proposal.
Store no provisions.
Abandon all fantasies of rescue,
mercy; pardon and reward.
Invite your own demise without really knowing
what it might be like nor how to go about it,
solely as the next obedient, sequential phase,
your last wisp of a motive being
the release, as best you can,
completely, of fallacy and fear.
O child of God, hope for hopelessness.
Attempt utter passivity.