The merchant is dead!
He is no more.
He’s dead.

But once, in time,
He was a young boy,
Guffawing on
Tethered rope swings.
Loved and loving,
Shy and silly.
His needs had not yet
Started to consume him.

He was a young lad,
A brash, hard-working lad,
At times, even flippant,
Yet passionate and caring,
When he met our fair Melissa.
His heart was instantly hers!
He adored her, nonetheless
Her heart was not free.
At such a tender age
He traded all for love,
For unrequited love, and
That was his falling.

He was a good husband, later,
When he married, another.
Fair and caring,
Plain and true.
He raised his children to
love and be loved, and
Worked till his body
Allowed him to.

He grew old,
As all and sundry seem to do.
All wrinkly and turned,
He had lived a straight life,
And had set his self free.
Yet, on his death bed,
As he closed his eyes
For the last time,
One breath to breathe,
He yearned for Melissa,
And smiling, died.

The merchant is dead!
He lived a life,
And died happily.