They say that dead men tell no tales
Maybe you just lack the ears for listening
You spend your youth shouting "Carpe Diem"
And though the bones lay on graves
Covered in saliva, soaked in it, glistening
You die with bones still marrow filled
As though for all your desire of wanting more
There is always more still missing
You try your best to convince yourself
You lived life for all life’s worth living
But your regrets shout clearly through
Your battle cry’s soft whispering
You wanted to suck them dry
Drink up every part of life
But there you lie
Memories filled with empty strife
Wishing more time was yours for wishing
But wishing is what got you here
Wishing and wishing but no action
No path shorn clear
Through the field you proclaimed was too hard to tame
Your humanity is what you blame
The guilt, the shame
You carry it all
The weight, your excuse and mistress
Unwilling to give it up
So you feel justified in the fall
But dead men do tell tales
Pray, lend them an ear
Please listen
For if you do
Then maybe you, dear traveler, can steer clear
Of many dangers, toils, and snares
You’ll come across on your road
And should you trip or slip or fall
May the tales of old help guide you safely home
For home is there
It is, I swear
But traveler don’t lose heart
For many tales seem dry and bare
But can offer you fresh starts
For we must run and run to win
The race that’s set before
But to win, my friend
Is not to not fall down
But to get up one time more
For there is hope
And grace
And love
To be ours as we go
But should we fall
And not get up
We’ll reap just what we sow
And those dead men there in their graves
Could save you with their stories
For all the lusts in which they placed their trust
And thought would be their glory
Got them nowhere, nowhere fast
As theirs became tales filled with death
And mind you, some quite gory
So let’s not delay nor waste our days
Please listen and learn and heed the words
You are about to hear
Please learn from them
Who used their pens
To try to bless your ears
Please heed the lessons in their fails
For if you listen close, you could avoid the ropes
Of so many of life’s snares
For if you listen right, heeding their insight
You could avoid their plight
Their hell, their fight, their ails
For despite coming undone
And their swollen rotting tongues
Dead men tell cautionary tales
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