The final countdown has begun,
cruel winter is coming to the temple and the crown.
Feting the unweeded growth of life, I should have known
her majesty, Death, has many faces, of which
too much life is the devious one!
O sweet life, how I longed for thee
in my fretful dreams and my sleepless wanderings,
a loner, walking on the lonely path of life
and though the final hour is at hand, now I know,
blessings can be veiled ironies!
One, who has lived his entire life
in dire poverty, how fitting it is
that the tragic end of his walk should be
steeped in such filthy abundance!