If I can't die in your arms,
if I can't die in a bed of roses,
if I can't die in the near of my children,
let me die in my most beautiful dress,
with a cigarette in my hand,
between moving grasses and the whispering winds,
with sun beams shining on my skin.
Before I'm leaving into the cold void forever,
leaving this body,
which was never aligned,
to the female soul within.
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