Here's a morbid chain poem ......
Do not go gentle into that goodnight,
Thunder and rage until the final breath.
Have some fine malt to soothe the pain of death
Hoping Glenfiddich puts all fear to flight.
There are no happy shouts beyond death's veil,
Live every moment of life's little round,
Do all you can to dull death's awful sound,
Drink and enjoy before your eyes grow pale.
Everything flies from those who choose to wait
Till life is kind; act now and be what may.
Your future will soon fade to yesterday,
Your present is your past when you are late.
Each birth is the beginning of the end,
Do not go gentle, then, to death, my friend.
It seems fitting to finish with the letter that started the poem, end meeting beginning as it were.
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