A Death Without a Death-Notice

Bearing the wounds that time itself has carved,
my heart lies upon its deathbed now.
The days have all been counted out.
A death for which no death-notice is ever written.
Those who knew me well will pen their condolences.
The sky will shed its tears for me.
The thunder will sing my funeral hymn.
The burial will take place with no one there, no crowd.
Among the roles I still had left to play,
one name alone will linger: the heartless one.
But then,
once the mind is dead, there is no pain anymore, is there…