Dave Bonta's short poem treats decay not as an ending but as something already under way. "Dead before we die" suggests that the body is breaking down while we are still alive, and that dying isn't a single moment but a slow process we carry around with us.
What's surprising is the tone. The decay is "sweet as nightlife," which makes rot feel seductive, even a little glamorous, like lights and music after dark. The speaker doesn't seem horrified. There's a quiet fascination, maybe even pleasure, in the idea.
The second stanza turns the body into something noisy and alive. It sings "without sleep," as if it can't rest, and it is "mutinous," a word that suggests rebellion against whoever is meant to be in charge, perhaps our own will. The decay becomes a kind of restless song.
The mood is eerie but oddly warm: unsettling and playful at once, as if mortality were a party we can't leave.