The Elder

THE ELDER
(By A.R. Leyshon)

When the sun does rise
The morning has come
And the old man dies
As many have done

His heart stops beating
His brain shuts down
His lungs stop breathing
He does not drown

His time has come
To leave this world
Now ninety-one
His body is curled

His last car trip is in a hearse
On a journey to the chuch
He is careless of who this hurts
As he is going to be burnt

The old man has died
The old woman weeps
As his body is fried
The body that sleeps