By The Graveyard

Here resides
A slumbering haven
Away from the slaughter house
Of butchers
I am not here
For the funeral
But in celebration
Of life in brevity.
My gold cerement
Is for a cocktail
Of saintly sinners.
The wreath is for
The living to adorn.
The epitaph is a poetry
Of clowns and heroes.
I choose to lie here
For the eeriness
Of the graveyard
Raptures my soul