If you may die old or young,
With all yearning and desire,
Knowing this song not yet sung,
With aspiring air through cold lung,
Thine books and wallet on shelf,
Straggle attires and overcoat,
And money in thy account,
Futile towards thy own self,
Sidekick to comrades, kith and kin,
Forgot as quickens as floating fin,
And you'd be like the erstwhile paper pin,
For which place not more than a bin,
Mourning faces and words of condolence,
Can't resurrect thou back in this cosmos,
For which thou had pile up wealth with esurience,
And base the sketch of castles with hopefulness,
Alas the hard thou beaver for this temporary respite,
Cause you want to reach the fabulous height,
Working dawn to dusk from day to-night,
Knowing this world is illusion sight,
And single alarm neither makes you fright.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.