The joy of death is courting you,
I pray that she can't catch you,
As pungent death stench surrounds you,
Fills your nostrils as they flare,
Remember this world is full of richness,
She  the lady poet,
Really dearly cares,

Wait until the time is right,
Lock deaths chains of mania,
Safely out of  sight and mind,
Amid the chaos that you find,
Clocks tick melancholic funeral dirge,
A beat of their own,
In a harmony of discordant sorrow,
Carried on the winds of change!
Livvi Kent 09/06/2013