I lie now so quietly in my grave
Facing woe and sorrow
Premature burial’s slave
Swallowed by a wave.
A second chance I can never borrow.
A Horror now so pure
A world of so few feet.
Alas my fate is sure.
Now never to abjure
In regions so obscure
With such Satanic lure.
My fate is just and meet.
I hear the bells intone
A solemn elegy.
I populate this world alone
Beneath a stoic marble stone
What horrid lurid full white moon
Might have left me hear to moan?
Do not for me weep bitter tears
For I have met my righteous fate.
Here I shall spend so many years
Until all memory of me disappears
When others lie upon later biers And they too may suffer this horrid fate.