Whole In the Ground
He wrapped his remains into his souls’ coffin at the cemetery
An oracle told him to be aware of gravediggers at the boneyard
Under cover of a midnight moon he sought solace and closure
Removed the wooden cross of too many forks from his greatcoat
Stared half naked and shivered into shadows of marble shrines
Recalled the good omen bestowed by the witch dressed in praise
Turned out to be a good day after all
He reminisced at promises of fortune and privileged birth sign
Money power and acclaim had never been far from his cradle
As one of society’s beacons he had feathered fortuitous gifts
Enhanced his standing in false virtue and belligerent strides
Never shied away from proffering prosperity in greedy pursuit
And yet approached necropolis and the grim reaper’s calling
Bad premises and yet change for conclusion
As he slowly pondered on benevolence and benediction he tripped
Near a wide open vault and tumbled into the tomb of reckoning
Ripped a scrumptious veil of superior misconceptions into tatters
Bled repentance and remorse onto the bottomless pit of lost hope
He was mortal after all and not oblivious to what riddled his mind
Vowed to be given one ultimate chance before he would demise
A special day just in time for healing
23 February 2020
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