Sitting down after many lives' worth
Of weariness does not now invite
Content. Instead fatigue and curses
Weigh as heavy as the load I fight.
It drugs me with malicious sighs
And many deadly contemplations.
No matter the deception and lies;
No matter the harsh condemnation.
What now am I to do in this cell?
My aged muscles beg for the stone
To lift it once more, I hope, will knell
the end of these dead, incessant drones.
Idles moments left to condescend
To myself and seek eternal end.