Epitath

[the_downtrodden]

If need should ever arise, here is my epitath, as it stands:

ho! who passeth this fair stone
pause a while beside my home
and rest thy legs a while
fromout the weary mile
in the green grass fed
by the longing paths i led

know thee, beneath thy feet
rests a soul of wings too fleet
to bear him on to find
the avalon of his mind
and hands too uncertain
to grasp his mortal curtain

i watched my numbered hours pass
through the walls of curved glass
the tawny sands of time
ran out this life of mine
and left no time to lay
the stones for another day

i sought fromout this senseless birth
some measure or mode of worth
a means by which i might
survive, forever, another night
but what paths did i pave
on my ceaseless march to grave?

what honors had i won
when all was said and done?
by what fate have i found
myself beneath the ground?
my deeds lay, undone
and victories, yet unwon

all i've made without my years
lay within a stream of tears
a path of dreams, cast aside
broken down, and left astride
for the hungry years to swollow
but bloody, still they follow

let me then, be a guide
for you here, at my side
know, thou hast but one form
from thy loving mother bourn
and hast but one life's sake
to all your dreams make or break

now, gather thee up in time
and remember my words and rhyme
and, as upon your path you go
heed the lives of those below
who cannot make you see the way
but, perhaps, to feel the day