gently beckon
the sweet words with
slivertongue fingers
slowly, steady
'til all is ready

placate them with lemonade
and roses for the sweetly grave
snipped especial so to save
their souls' decay
as it were
in olden day

gaily affair we
singing high and merr'ly
and twirl as tiny fairies
do in mid-summer eves

sprinkled loves
and lists
of hopes and kisses
and corpse-like tenderness
it sickens

so do the sweet words sour
and I alone this hour
do turn the tables paleweak
and weep them
so they sink
into my nothing
I keep
oh so dearly

how sincerely
I do try
to **** them softly
and dry the eyes
of mourners
far and wide
but alas
they always die

the end is my domain