The Elder

The beginning of the end
is the least we have to fear,
for when the clock shall chime its last,
I’ll shed no single tear.

The prophets and the moribund
shall come at last to see
that I shall heed their warnings less
and shake their old decree.

In temperament I shall, in time,
succumb to my new fate,
cohesion loosing battleground,
my breath and heart abate.

But even then, when knells do sound,
I shall avail myself
to silent end and silent pass,
a shadowed life shot down.

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