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Wasp above
Weaves it home
Asp and moles
'Bode in holes
Where will man
Bide his time
When his clan
Sings his prime?
In a hollow darkeness?
In an empty space?
In slimy slippery?
A simple touch await?
In a slumber?
In a trance?
With some canker
...in some dance?
What will he do
When death he's undone?
Where will be his hood
When sets his bright sun?
In the bottomless pit?
Falling ceaselessly?
With the fallen angels?
For a thousand years?
In some sulphur fueled flare?
For ever?
Will satan be there?
Fuelling the fire?
In a peaceful, pleasant place?
Where the wild is tamed?
No night nor pain?
Nor dying again...?
Clouds in shades
Guide my way
To heaven
Not to hades
Where the 'bold
And able'...haven.
Let my grave
Be void of bones
No filth to hold
This engrave
On my tombstone;
'His death is gold'