The Funeral Season 14. 08. 17

Epigraph: "Here we are
Now lay the burden down
We're coming to the end of our road
Sorrowful yet glorious somehow
To be humming this one last ode
So calm and still
It was not all that bad or was it?
Now fulfilled
It does not only hurt to end it now
...The funeral..."
     Sentenced "End of The Road"

Thus came to pass - I left my land for an year
The ill will of fate made from me the sole heir
The funeral season has drained me so dry,
That I'd no strengths e'en to appeal to the sky

The whispering shades, the strange voices at night,
The total eclipse of my brain and insight
Begirt by death, I'd but one thought to appease
My pain - while I suffer, my loves rest in peace

A long while I did not appear on my ground
And no matter how now I'll try to expound
My plight, the dark ghosts, I fear, won't realize
Why my soul is stuck in the nets of demise

But what a hell I should exert to explain?
My ice silence cries in the endless black rain
The members of my kin lie under the sod
And only their blear phantoms haunt my abode

Life won't be the same nevermore, ne'er again
Too aged for a change, I'm too tired to complain
What this grim existence can grant after all?
The role of the horse in the desolate stall?

No way. I will not give such joy to my foes
Thereunto,  their graves set as well in the rows
The fierce time gives mercy to no one and you,
Who read these lines, ponder, ain't your days are few?

Unfortunately, our bad species is not
The heroes who'd alter mankind and its lot
And I, whose once cherished is buried in dust,
Abolish the concepts of credit and trust.

I'm closing the gate of the cemetery yard
Above the world full of the dumb disregard
If it brings just  WOE of the solace instead,
I envy the fallen - they'd better stay dead

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