The Fearless Man's Epitaph.

"It's about that time again,
That time where we drink and toast to another hundred years,
That time that we celebate what we have,
And ignore what we don't,
And at that, the second category grows smaller,
And smaller with each passing year.

And at that, more burdens tie us down,
Everything has a price in some form,
To sell or to buy, there is no pricelessness,
For a man would sell his soul for whatever he doesn't have,
Only to sell everything that he has,
In the hope that he'll grow a new soul.

So here lies a man who left that cycle untouched,
Who lived in constant abundance and overindulgence,
And never once questioned a soul, not once,
Because here I lie, a rotting mass of flesh,
And I can't sell my soul to grow a new body."