Dying Young

i always believed i would die young
i had dreams that would lead me
guiding my life to lay me to rest
in a grave of rocks and stubble
i don't know why i had visions, gray
but the coolness of the stones
against my face, unmoved by my cold flesh
no blood was shewn and no tears poured
my corpse lay quiet, breathless, souless
never questioning or beckoning for reason
still, beneath the smooth rock i rest
never again to speak a word of distress

jjf