A man sits quiet on his usual chair
His hands hold his heavy head high
And grasps on tight to sweet despair
Smooth tender like his lovers thigh
Integrity does with madness comply
Compliance to weigh down some more
His head that does on hands relay
Reliance sly does the innocent lure
With every step to fall and break
Death has her own dearest notes
Scattered upon an ashen lake
She plays them with life’s melody
At times mature and timely
At others wild and out of beat
Unfair he declares the game of death
And dies with a satisfied last breath