If Death

live for music
die by the beat

boredom drumming in the afternoon
makes me so weak

tasks undone
done all the fun

and I want to take a nap
and I am oh so tired
and I need a haircut badly

and so what if
moment-by-moment mundacity
doesn't add up
to much?

this maddening thing existence:

shall we call it

a production of life
or a rehearsal for death?

this is the second
these are the hours
that pass us by

(morning is nigh)
night long drawn out
terrors stretched out

to ravage a soul to ashes:

o god do something!

if death couldn't hold you
than neither can I .....