deepundergroundpoetry.com
Nothing Eternal
Rows of crooked teeth
old tombstones erode
Gothic monuments
of an age long past
Forgotten stone
fading with their names
Each tell but one tale
all dreams are but fleeting
So wot does it matter?
For a scythe shall reap us all
And the dead know only one truth
It is better to be alive
old tombstones erode
Gothic monuments
of an age long past
Forgotten stone
fading with their names
Each tell but one tale
all dreams are but fleeting
So wot does it matter?
For a scythe shall reap us all
And the dead know only one truth
It is better to be alive
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