Resting in eternal silence,
no sound will you make,
but forever keep in your sleep.
No dreaming to awaken
careless passions, aspirations
you are faded, drawn in grey.
Eyes bled dry for the last time
in sorrow as we cover you
lay to rest all consciousness
in soiled, anguished chamber
sheltered only by cedar beams
fit both for worms and kings
for in their final rest, both equate
to earthy meals for hungry things
in life’s cyclical masterpiece.