977. THIS SIMPLE LIFE WHICH FAILS

THIS SIMPLE LIFE WHICH FAILS
Praecipio Praecipiocus - a simple rare name,
written in steel right here, where all the
grass has turned brittle and brown.
As I walk this famed lawn, it crunches
underfoot. I read the names along the
wall - all dead, with all they took.
I guess I am here forever : on the edge
of this land, like a noun on an inland sea,
where these men mine their iron and the
girls have yet to be. An old mangled
corpse you call me? Weathered, perhaps,
but not mangled. I died of the age and was
buried here once. I rose from the dead in
the seventieth hour and I walked my way
back - to these creatures of land dragging
their tales and hearing their wails. It is all
for naught and matters little, really. With
no recompense, this simple life fails.