Last Words (Words Of Gold) Poem by RazonAnny Justin

Son, when my Soul to Hades fade
The glory of years afore
Qich memories of escapades
In a world that's old and sore
Do forgive me, I pray of thee
The resources, a-wasting be
And count of hours shaded, under the pine
Cross-legged on draught-boards, with laughter and wine
And though I shy to tell a tale
Of rendevouz in Dark Motels
On mistresses often, my means squander
Torn of heart, your mum and I; assunder
Now old and worn, in eternity I grief
Yet look not on me like buds do falling leaves
Or piously judge me; Incapable
For these Bloods make thee so vulnerable
But beware of Women and Friends and Waste
As quick they come, so they varnish in haste
Eventhough Florals of Wreath
To my Tomb, faileth thee bring
The waste of each pawning Breath
To the winds, I bade thee fling
But not my Words, Son not my dying Words
for Unlike me, they are moulded not from Dust.

@2012, Razon-Anny Justin's 'The Metamorphosis and Other Poems'.