A bereft father's Woe
No Woe to Show Sandals of stone, till brim and bone... Candles to atone, all grim and alone... All my why's slip away, all shy and bye... Could I but cry, those tears now dry... I look sky high, those fears now fly... Try as I, trouble and truffle, my very lie... Her lunar eclipse scuffled, my son's sun muffled... For my trifle, they all now stifle... A pin to my chin and head held to a rifle! They fail to flail my skin, so weld by lead, none to take his stead! They pontificate all pompous, but they lay upon the bay of pompeii! Much to my dismay do I say, you have lost your way, far away and astray... Into Vesuvius' volcanic depth you lept, morality cleft all asunder... Will you still not surrender? Or wish ye' to be her ashtray?