Memento Mori

Life is short, make most of it. Always remember that you must die, and you are destined to die once.

The ink strives to write the new story

Twinkling light; or a realm of dark memories

Yet as the letters fill the sheets to be written

His journey to fate shall now begin

 

The first of his glance are the glades of greatness

As the master of the words, life is of his verses

Phrases are marching the orchestra of ascendency

And joyful stanzas with ends of glory

 

He fills the broken and empty spirit bowls

With his words of lights and truce

Turn them back as beautiful before

For his poetry’s life is everything and whole

 

And yet by all sudden,

Or shall I say this story is not praises or flowery

For I shall bring you directly to his reality

 

I saw him glimpse on the caravan of melancholies

And his idioms turn death, all have no mercy

His speeches corrupt the soul of his characters

And the theme of his story now of necromancy

 

He lies on the ocean of blood and flesh

And all that are cursed he bless

He eats the worms that lurks in dead’s

And breath the air of demon’s wish

 

The sheets of which he authored well

Have now become the diary of fear

As I draw my sight to him

I saw his blood so fast to drain

 

He never knew what have he done

His blissful verses myths have become

All those days of his glorious psalms

Now turn nothing but a single mourning song

 

He wishes to write in a new sheet once more

A let his dying letters trail to life as before

But fate blessed this planned new beginning

For his pen’s in have come to an end!