His dissolution came as no surprise
to him; he'd been awaiting it for years.
Stoic, almost Grecian, he shed no tears,
even before it liquefied his eyes.
His arms withered, his legs shrank down to bone,
his ears dried up and fell like autumn leaves;
his teeth vanished as though purloined by thieves,
yet his dessicate tongue voiced not a groan.
For as his body crumbled into dust
and maggots rutted through his sad remains,
his mind still dwelt above in flowered halls;
he thought, through clouds of pain, how God is just
and numbers every songbird as it falls--
right up until the insects ate his brains.
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