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