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Like machinery with use,
Life by time depreciates
Towards eternity.
His remains were borne away to the cemetery
And were interred in a "G" marked grave finally,
Having led he a life of wine, women and
Song. He was therefore committed to the land
Of no returning more, who on this shore was
The philanderers' prince, using his john thomas
To make lucre off ladies libido--a ******.
For he knew how to set their body whole aglow
And ensured their ******, playing the field as
A merchant of amour in the Sin City of Las
Vegas and had a great liking for cards--
When easing up his muscles--and  for billiards.
He's a 6'4 and broad-chested feller; chunky
Enough for that **** business. A bloke beefy!
When eventually you heave that sigh
Of eternity out as thy soul (sink) high
Or (fly) below to Doom or Paradise
And thine transformed body is in a trice
Seen standing amidst a certain company--
There and then, be no remedy to a destiny.
Not upon the
countenance
shown;
in utterance
and deed
known.
Places of absoluteness:
heaven and hell--
no miscarriage of justice.
Like vultures
after
carcasses
seek,
man
for
verdant grasses
ventures.
It's dragging along
Like an he-goat,
Life--pulled with a strong rope
By a butcher. Animal cruelty
Is like an existence of exigency.
Where now is the hope
For one sans meals, coat
And crib, with many a sad song?
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