Bereft of all reason
   Alone and stumbling,
                                   Once proud and vain
Now alone and old
   the fate of beauty  
What does brain get you
a few years of maudlin time
   and then motor functions dissipate
caricatures of once what We were,
Sometimes a ray is good
and then all rise up singing hosanna's in praise
chants in rhythm and mobile fair eyed ones in joy
Come take Me there and hold My hand in twain
I will ne'er be alone
                                   is that the fear
or that sound will disappear and
those lovely flesh talking slaps and flogs are gone forever,
Such a thing of beauty and then nothing  
a world of no sight and no sound
she will still be there  
                             at the end of the Way  

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