Man has no time to weep for the king,
His only task, to remove the ring.
Wallowing in riches, with one last breath,
The moment seized to grasp a wreath.

Silver coins, but now you're old,
Across the ages; forever told
Of timeless err- without end,
Where countless others learn to begin.

The cycle of life is on the rise,
Swift angel wings, the spirit flies.
Soft breath of gold, they speak in hues,
Of untold riches found in youth.

A time for those who promise to dare
And live a life of beauty with flare
Or leave it alone to wither in mask
Denying desire to taste the sky.