Oh for the cool, dark cover of death
To wrap my soul for an endless sleep
Where not so much as a single breath
Or the cold, wet touch of a blood red worm
Could ever disturb the watch I keep
Yet who should lie upon the bed
Beneath the shroud of dark, black peace?
The one or the other must be dead
For the one remaining to reaffirm
Life. And such a life which will not cease.
