Death is a way of teaching
Metiphoricly speaking
You decay with rot and stench
Waste away in your cell with no vent
On pillows of satin you lay
While on your face maggots play
Your funeral pyre all burnt out
Amist those who cast doubt
Your life has no more breath
In this awful eternity
no burden is left on your chest.
KLINZ 8/18/99