One day

I will cross the Styx

And drink of Lethe.

 

 

All our memories must decay.

But some succumb

To Lethe

Before they make their way

Over the Styx.

 

 

We grieve

For those who are here

Yet gone away.

And pray

That when we leave

We may

Recognise Charron.

 

Yet some who forget

Before they cross

Know not what

They have lost