Fleeting

His eyes tired with endless sights Against web's background whites, Heavied by seas of tips and dots; All spun and cast by lifeless bots. His ears deaf to loudest bangs Listen still to thundering gangs, Detailing zillion wares of worth; All distinguished by fiscal math. His lamed limbs yet peregranate Between countless errands' bait, Each more vital than the previous; Fettered by cords fizzling devious. His breath and total being all sore Last collapse under fatiguing woe, Every ghoulish groan more piteous Than doom's under-soil enclosures. And sigh not for he has lived. Pen eulogistic elegy trimmed With nifty poets' finest tropes, On one who nursed tall hopes.