How golden but all too short in thy term art thou precious youth

yea to think now of thy absence daggers my heart

tis time I curse

he being too keen to be at his work!

become do we servants of lifelong regret

to his unstoppable imposition

 

nay art each of thy new mornings dewfalls

no longer the representational gems they once were anymore

as in my earlier years

but lifes representational warning tears of yet another days death

 

verily a sunshine blurring and hope diminishing thought

impossible to dismiss

oh age! how grieviously hath thee sorely inflicted thyself

on the frailty of my mortal presence!