Count of Monte Cristo
There is no escape from this lonesome prison
Excluding within body-bag-and-tag.
And Lord knows I gone farther than every one's expectations!
Yet I barely recognise my own self
under my unattended overgrown bearded face.
I know somewhere underneath this masquerade
there once lived a humble dreamer-man,
and as more time progresses
more time than my hands and feet can account for,
all those Monte Cristo years of youthful glory...now gone pass.
There is no escape by my own hands!
Death is not within my own grasp
so here I suffer another solitary day in misery's quarters,
re-living every joyous pleasant memory
One droplet...drip drop...at a time.
How much should I learn here?
And how much of it can I take be-own here?
Will I become a better man?
Or yet more confuse than I ever been!
Take another droplet full of knowledge,
take my cellmates body out of death-bag,
saw my self inside the body-bag
stitching all alongside to the top.
Alas! Find my self in riverbank
in the early hours of dawn.
and with hopes to new found knowledge
in this prison death won't find me.
But find me it will
and so shall find all of us,
Yet let it be in good spirits
in glorious gracious laughter.
Let it be swift as the wind
and calm as a water-pond,
in sweet-dreams as true blessing
but if awake!
May my eyes see sunlight and clouds,
Green pastures and a light rain,
and my three beautiful babies
waving farewell to Dad.
This are my treasures to keep
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