Morbid

The beastly hour slowly creeps
As all the dread-full mortals weep

Distress, torment, dreading, dis-content
Braving nonetheless the bones that bent

What morose powers lay untold
Into the darkness of the hearts unfold

The silent dismal sighs of wrath
Comes merrily singing the cold aftermath

The wedding china, the pitter patter
All bits that now scarcely matter

Into the twilight drags its cloven feet
A wonderful end we all must meet

The slow rambling gait of fate
Obliterated all manner of hate

No time to lay the fragrant wreath;
To speak

For when the end draws to a close
We miss only those who knew the most

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