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Life's Ode to Death

When, at length, I rest my eyes,
And heed no more the sor’owing sighs,
Of subjects with unworthy hands
I dared to write so bold and grand.
And when the candle’s light does glow,
Casting shades from long ago,
It’s in this time I consent to know--
I know not what these words bestow.
Upon the print, in ink still wet--
A being that none in life forget,
That haunts the alleys of empty streets,
And steals away the last heartbeat,
That walks in shroud and bears a crook,
That all that breathed this air forsook,
Their common lives to shed and flee,
All so they may walk with thee.
But where, oh Death, is now your sting?
And do you not rejoice in spring?
And why, oh Death, oh Satan’s spawn,
Do you tarry here on Earth so long?
Is it that you wish us still
To be immortal? Nay! Thy will
Is only that of a fickle child.
And I am by you no more beguiled.

3 Mar 07

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