When of Death I speak,
your senses need not feel weak,
nor falter as if meek.
For these are Ruminations,
those which I keep,
locked away and out of sight,
lest I wish to incite,
a brawl, a melee, some primal fight.
So use your intuitions,
lead with only your own light.
For there may be gods or devils or kings,
none of which to my liking.
And though disagreements may be striking,
always resist the temptations,
to become the brutal viking.
Instead, live and laugh and love and die,
but fear nothing that gives no reply.
For if, with an end you must comply,
remember the best of conditions:
you were born in this world, alone, don’t cry.
To change the situation?
Accept your feeble station;
80 years or so with earth as your location.
So in my belabored loquation
I bid you luck and love, all of life’s libation.