A Verse for Martse
You have succumbed to inactivity of the fresh
Reduced to dumb after cultivating language of the dead
Spoken yonder the ruthlessly insatiable Styx.
Now that you've put to bed mortality and sorrows of life
Some imagine you deceased and a charade of memory
But to us, you are just a fervent hallelujah with a rekindled expression.
Your repose has brought more life to your name -
An immortal graving on the wall
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