A predominant atmosphere of gloom
Abounds in this clinic of perish
Where the fetid decay of death blooms
Heralding the arrival of the garish
How each cadaver achieved mishap
Is no mystery to the documented Earth
For they celebrate your birth into death
As they envy your death into birth
Never is the toe-tag a glimmer
or thought in their mind
Ever on the verge of disaster
every moment closer to resign
Mingling with the deceased
your stench intertwined with others finality
Adopted now by mystery in a convenient locality