Chapter 3 Prologue III: The poem

Many spits bitchy words on there,

But thou still shows they face In the lights;

With pesky pride and gratification.

Thou are ultimately shameless;

No fear,

No respect,

No regards.

Thou have not iota of empathy and pity,

And lacks an emotional quotient.

Always edgy to seize a breath.

Do thou ever have grave misgivings,

The undertaker?

Do thou ever have a qualm,

The Undertaker?

Why can thou not be bid,

The undertaker?

I cannot exercise my exasperation,

And how much I forbid thee.

But before thou frizzles out my time,

I implore thee that I bid lovers farewell.

'HAPPINESS AND FREEDOM BEGIN WITH ONE PRINCIPLE. SOME THINGS ARE WITHIN YOUR CONTROL AND SOME ARE NOT.' Epictetus

Author's note:

Hey guys!

I wrote this poem after the death of my younger brother, his name was Chinagorom ; he was just about a month old when we lost him to death. I vehemently believed that he was taken forcefully by The Undertaker.

This poem is a protect of anger and dismay. I was so angry and disheartened when I got home as a 13year old kid and met my younger brother lying cold. I touched his skin and the tissues were not active to hold his skin.

THIS STORY IS SPECIALLY DEDICATED TO MY LATE BROTHER, CHINAGOROM.