Threnody of a Forgotten Grave

This one's for you Aunt Lydia. May you rest in peace.

Hear ye passerby!

Here lies a poor waif,

In a casket of sorrow'

In a bed of grief.

In a crypt, 

Damp and morose.

Her soul, fatigued

Her quest, over.

Her pain, washed up

To the bowels of the earth.

May the doldrums come.

Take this weak and woebegone.

I am finished passerby!

 Go.