• What I see : the skeleton of a man clinging to a heap of treasures
• What I feel : the treasures may have been the cause of the man's death.
The Death of Me
A Legend he heard,
tickled his beards,
he rode his carmel,
riding to hell.
His thoughts bore wings,
flew into the night,
and like bats in fleet,
away from the light.
Hung on to this,
fleeting pleasures,
Crowned with greed,
to get it all.
Trophies for who?
A greeneyed monster,
A sword will do,
Slit open asunder.
A heap of gold,
My heart it stole,
No way home,
He died in this hole.
©TheUltimate