Who will remember my name,
Long after I pass into the Shadow' s garden,
Admist the harvested flowers, wondering of my fame,
Knowing this would come without warning or pardon,
After the many impressing feats and accolades,
I pray not to be forgotten awaits,
That my name will not fade or degrade,
That instead it proliferates and is great,
Perhaps my poems will reveal my disguise,
And they wil make a bust of my face,
They will come to tell tales and lies,
Glorify and disgrace,
All this I wonder while sitting here,
Pondering my existence that is so dear.