Watch rot what once was living
When its thread of life is first cut
It is without blemishes
Life itself has sustained a connection between all functions
Then death blight creeps slowly over it
Like a plague which vanquishes all in its way
Soon the matter will be completely
Enveloped in a dismal grey
Brown and black: Its odour will abhor
Most unsightly; with none of the vigour
That once made it proud
From the day a child is born it must live
Day to day with its afflictions
Until a certain age that child will smile
Then one day it realises everyone is despiteful
