Life Is a Term Lease

This wreath is in your eidetic memory, yet you should live. Can you receive my lament, which is almost to happen? There is no garland as I plummet, rattled by the sieve. Died with you, can't revive, as you lie on plush and satin. Earth collapses beneath its weight—why was it to be that way? The words reflect that living beings are welcome today. To read the stones, the lost will return home shortly to stay. The shade of gloom fosters a dark and virtuous decease.  Stashed spaceship shrines to scold scintillating stars in peace. Among the outworn headstones, the moss knows the lease.  There's a hushed quiescence here; no birds to chirp up or hive. The wind moans, the agony is veiled, and the heart blackens. Trusting that I would rest here, bereft of any rich ray. Leaving behind all my acrid-gained assets through a name cease. Written: February 25, 2023 This poem form is the Fragmented Rhyme invented and Conceived by Constance La France. It has 14 lines with indentation, and a rhyme scheme, as follows: ABABCCCDDDABCD