The span

 Dark orchids, stand in lonely isolation
in their stead, paper mache's haunting forms.  
Broken hearts for sustenance
starved of life in an early sunset.
Dark deaths hands clinging like molasses
the tail that was sparkling comet.
Virile men and comely lasses.
The span we have, the recompense
was the coin well spent. or just wasted.
 Livery, standing to attention
or a useful life without pretensions.
 Capricious fate the only one to wind that clock