The Last Call

I close my eyes to sway some sleep,

for long in the night I could not complete;

a thought that haunt me in the maiden of days,

and follows me through the solemnity of ways.

But the summer solstice came,

riding her searching mother's game ;

And lo! I hear a grumpy old woman's voice,

 lurid and frigid and husky and moist.

 Then it said: "Behold thy son of thief;

 you will no longer see my rising master's grief,

for in the bottom of the roaring oceans floor,

there lay his body dead and stays forevermore".

And so the voice opted to pause,

a break that last a hundredfold;

 but I know it will never dare close,

the telling tale as I was told. 

Yet again in time she said: 
How could such evil crime was made,

when all the good and beauty and best;
are brewing melancholy in my master's errant heavy head.
but done it was their weary deed,
thy master's call will be forever dead;
and if indeed thy call be heard,
no man shall be inclined to heed.

At this the voice began to fade,
goodbye to you Oh! son of thief;
but then before it comes to end,
I ask the voice to whom I heard;
the morbid saga of thy master's death,
My master is Honor and Dignity,
and I am the Future it said.