Born I was as a child
With a character so mild
Grew under my mother’s veil
With a subtle body so frail

I grew up in my dreams
And soon grew out of my seams
Working more with my intellect
Profession of analysis I did select

Time flew by too fast
For my youth to last
My gaunt became senile
For its end only a while

As I lay weak in my bed
And could not hear of the said
I held hands with my allies
And sympathetically heard cries

My body was lowered in grave
With nothing but six feet save
Flesh and bones turned to soil
Mind and intellect ceased to toil

For all that ceased to exist
Refused with destiny to tryst
Even mind left my throne
Save all but I stood alone

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