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The Last Words of a Poet (Final Hour)
Drink the hemlock,
time to die
No more lies to tell,
no more lives to corrupt
By choice it was death,
because life was not a choice.
This voice no longer speaks,
this pen no longer writes
Time to die,
drink the hemlock
Goodbye my friends,
go in peace
Be dealt the cards of fortune
and not of woe
Make the choice in whether or not you wish
to stay above or below
This temporary existence shall pass away
but these words shalll remain forever carved in stone
For all things lead back to the grave
and you are really only prolonging the inevitable conclusion
It is your decision, however,
and Just be sure not to make a big mistake
Once you are gone, there is no coming back
be sure that this is really what you want
Before you descend into the abyss
and cross the river styx
