A Stranger Gone
Should Death come swiftly in the height of green,
fitted with flowers in their transience,
buried in my six feet long before keen,
as faces drift by with a doleful glance;
heed this warning as you would affliction.
Do not allow an epitaph to rule my name,
nor my epithet a stranger's diction.
Young Death is no trice -- someone is to blame.
Look close to the powers, those greedy fiends;
listen clearly to the bell that rung right.
Convience is believing what quick seems.
Coincidence lies below this old plight.
A life now seen as mere tragedy in media,
It would seem those poor of heart thrive on brisk mania!
fitted with flowers in their transience,
buried in my six feet long before keen,
as faces drift by with a doleful glance;
heed this warning as you would affliction.
Do not allow an epitaph to rule my name,
nor my epithet a stranger's diction.
Young Death is no trice -- someone is to blame.
Look close to the powers, those greedy fiends;
listen clearly to the bell that rung right.
Convience is believing what quick seems.
Coincidence lies below this old plight.
A life now seen as mere tragedy in media,
It would seem those poor of heart thrive on brisk mania!