The Philosopher's Sonnet

Others are born, the lost are burried Life is a journey not to be hurried But whats wit if the wise are mute And who is beauty if she is not yet born Mom said to not sugar But if she is to be believed Then pigs do fly, and wings lie The plains, they speak of a time long gone Dad said to not blow my horn. But tomorrow took my horn, so why say he The preacher said death is an illusion Then where is grandpa? The night is so dark and cold. But i shall wait for another sunrise.