When my time comes
may solitude be my company.
May the room’s only shadows
move beneath the clock hands.

May I not be stained by tears
nor deafened by the deep moans
of weeping that arrive before the hour.

If I need water, give me a hard
nurse to bring it quickly and go.
My will is left to you who loves
me most: Please celebrate
the comforts we gave to each other,
the peak where we look back
down our lives.
When the clock strikes
and they cover my face,
see me as chrysalis
about to butterfly.

– Robert S. King