I regarded the bereaved, stood amongst the fallen leaves and gazed upon the coffined mass. Each immensely sad they seemed, as though from life to have been deemed the audience for one just passed.

The wind blew cold, but still the fold stood firm in their remorse.                                                I was impressed, so darkly dressed, so many come in force.

Whose passing marred, whose loss had scarred, the souls of all those gathered?                      Lay still beneath the pall, the remains of one to all who once had truly mattered.

Sad mystery, was strangely me, whose death had culled respect.  A life forsaken and one I’d taken for misconceived neglect.

A worthless token, had one but spoken before I put to test my withered heart, hence broke apart, I might have had some rest.

So I curse you loud, you somber crowd, for the love I never tasted. I neither sleep nor will I rise for the life that I have wasted.