The Swansong

And when my eyes are closed In a final deep slumber... Will there be one to say: 'Here lies the one Who made life easy to live For others, other than himself?'... Will there be one to mourn To weep and wail Consolably Beating my limp body Crying that I will be missed? Will there be one to cover me Faithfully and fatefully Looking into the closed eyes Thinking about the vanity called life? Will there be one to announce That this nameless being is gone Telling the world that the corpse Is leaving for his main home In a few hours? Will there be one to clothe my carcass Gather my heavy bones With the woolen shroud Covering me head to toe In a maddening lift to the grave? Will there be ones to pray Seeking forgiveness for my sins Calling for my debt to paid Asking that my transgressions In their multitude be forgiven Yielding their shoulders As a final vehicle to my final home? Won't there be ones to laugh Mock Dance Rejoice That the lavishly-foolish man Is gone That the ridiculously-disturbing idiot Has left For them to dwell in their rots For them to live eternally In their blackness? Won't there be ones Who will be happy That their enemy This fine world has left? (c) Yettocome '2019