Gravestones
For death is upon me and I don’t mind,For I know my reflection is calling.And the terrified hopes of me will be my friendAs I ride into my worries--But there’s no need to hurry.Sand is quick--When doused in fear--Biting through my tongue.So have it that--This mouth of mine--Could speak three words so fine.Gravestones cold break my mould,Bursting o’er the vine:Holding on my fickle firesTo ignite what I had burnt.For death is upon me and I don’t mind,I know my reflection is calling.And the terrified hopes of me will be my friendAs I ride into my worries--But there’s no need to hurry.
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