Thy skin and bones are laid to rest.
Whilst thy soul flies free of the dust.
Ashes to star-stuff so we must
All fade away.
The noble dead are trapped in our hearts.
Their songs linger in our mind.
Pleased to play the part.
They beckon us join them in kind.
The mortal weave being complete
Is only a matter of time.
Use thy pen to a pleasant end.
Let not thy colors bleed.
When the serpent has swallowed his tail
And you wander the worlds between.
Will we in our earthly gardens
Remember that your weeds were watered,
Well planted and green?
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