To think that I shall one day die,
and not be held in Death's strong grip;
yet hear my slave chains break, then slip
and fall, as I, in freedom, fly.
The moments all too quickly flee
but I recall who paid my debt;
this price so high at last was met.
In debt no more, I am set free.
Postmortem glance into the grave,
exposed the Devil's fatal flaw:
the bait and switch he never saw;
a piercing barb was sure to save.
The Gadfly
|
Submission Name: Postmortem
