What Have I Done?
Amongst the ruins and muddy dust, I find myself now because
Of my demeanour and character, of which some have made a fuss,
Yet, I fear nothing – not wearing any armour – for I’ve never believed
In Hamlet’s rub; to be taken now, a calling, I would be relieved.
This mortal coil is not all that’s left, for it too will come to pass;
Soon the bolt will have its charge and all that’ll be left – burnt grass.
Yet, my soul is to rise again in a dream in the minds worth dreaming,
And thunderous hearts are going to chant the song, definitely not musing.
To be remembered in kind and jest is all that I can hope.
To have loved in this life of strife is what allows me to cope.