your life as it finishes rung around with wasteful expense and useless conceits finds you this day of reckoning having won nothing at all and the echo of love and its lost echoing off down the hall you bend to pray or to bend and say something to the duke and the killers now that this loss has lost you and vouchsafed his gain out amidst the shuffle of a dark sleek new day but you are in possession of a deadened silencing anger and watch the procession as it moves away from what will be remembered of you which without the curse of the gift that s been given leaves you speechless and beyond reach pointless senseless and now endless a spread of ash in the air of mock concern and mock care just like you were never there pointless senseless and now endless 