A Somber Poem

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Blasphemous Basement

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It seems my sad story must come to an end
I've been killed by The Noise, or so it's been said
Who knows if I live, unknown to the masses
An old man (one of two) with a white beard and glasses

Though foolish it would be, it is a good thought
The old men they were killed, and much sadness that brought
So what if I became them, despite having no brain
Everyone will think they haven't been slain

"Oh joy! They are back!" they will shout in the streets
Little do they know, I have them beat
I've tricked them, those fools, and their tiny minds
If my secret is revealed, there will be much crime

They will cry, the fools, and I will feel glee
For the first time in my life, since 1903
I've been around all this time, though that they don't know
Over many long years, I have grown and grown

For now though, I, will stop going on
I have said too much now, so I'll make myself gone
Perhaps, young peasant, I'll see you soon
In The Basement, I will make you become my goon

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