The Body After Death

The wreath Is worthless After death The body Is powerless It is a nihil Neither yours nor mine I dare not rhyme with this animal Man is evil And is always wrong and ill Life and death Are both sensitive And incomprehensible. The once strong body Is now deceased Full of disease Today it became a thing Covered with roses and throngs And with sprinkled incense The blood is missing, gone And does not flow This is the end; this is the last blow. Man is ungrateful and naughty Just like vicious rats And fat cats Yesterday, the living body Was president, admiral King, pope, general Executive, marshal Champion and scientist Hence, it’ll go through an unimaginable process It will live like a tormented and sadistic artist Deep below the land In a chaotic mess Beneath the slippery sand. The body after death Is worthless And powerless Look at the starving dogs Now they are chasing the wild hogs And the wreath They feel stronger now In summary They are after their best friends And are oddly behaving like fiends Who no longer bow They are searching for the body Which used to be strong and mighty.