Old Bass Player (Dark) Poem by The Chronicler

...nd so, In this limerick, we mourn a bass player's fate,
A life barely known, now sealed by death's gate.
From darkness to light
We'll trace his might,
His legacy, his flaws, in a rhythmic state.

Once it was the funeral of an old bass player,
Whose career thrived on the word of a soothsayer.
He's never been laid,
Failed to get laid,
Posthumously he was conferred on; an ever standing performer.
Dark Version - Old Bass Player.