lord
they say
of that home overhead
is beauty rapturous
but the interred
holler a song
showing gold to be lead
for his might is rancorous
thought that allure captures still
for when have the greedy had their fill
not in this life
not in the next
for the fearful are still afraid
and will be still, when down they're laid
despite their fight
the sickly go too
for all their bated breaths
could not help in their deaths
that fed the soil what hungered so
going silently
into that goodnight