Within the Box

The approach of silent gentlemen
A procession clad in black
The pallbearers are smirking
Their burden on shoulders that quake

He reflects within the box
A life not wasted but lacking weight
A few minor breakthroughs to report
A few dreams that streak across the sky

But it was, no doubt, the revelry
The fetes he filled with thugs and tarts
The cheap wine so deeply swilled
Hashish inhaled to assassin plots

Then, of course, private soirees
The decadence of the bourgeoisie
Masked partners up and down the hall
Preparing for the midnight ball

He recalls it all with no regret
A peace as his casket's set
He disdains to languish vexed
One must consider what comes next.