An heirloom blanket, old and worn,
that we, with hesitance, adorn;
The beast, who, but his eyes, is hid;
An auction won by lowest bid;
The swift declension of the sun;
An artist's tapestry, undone;
The chill beyond the fire's heat;
An epic tale, at last, complete;
The highest mountain ever braved;
The brainchild of a god depraved;
The grounds for all to persevere;
The only deadline to adhere;
Perhaps existing just to show
the lengths to which a man will go
when faced with such a bleak decree,
which seems to be, to some degree,
a quite coherent cause for death,
as I would hope, on my last breath,
that Earth and all of humankind
were made, not by the famed Divine
whose rules have bound the wills of Man
since Eden where we all began,
but one who found, in life, a laugh,
and made us thus, on its behalf,
with Death designed to entertain,
Therefore, we never die in vain.
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