I'm tortured by my failures many
What few successes all remain empty
These lines will form another poem told
Yet different times call forth heralds bold...
There is a sadness in being old
Of being always left in the cold
But there are never rhymes in reason
I lost my future lover's season...
Sing merrily as I spiral down
For I'm only an aged failing clown
No longer hiding my tired frown
I wait on death's thorny crown...
I go unremembered to my end
Without my love to make amends
She left this life in sudden flight
Without my making it all right..
No sad songs will you sing for me
For joyous at my passing be
I'll not care what will be spoken
For I'll never again be awoken...