Tales of Untales

Sestina of those who shouldn't have, yet are recorded.

 

An old fellow has written about death and receives in so-called welcome;

A magnum opus that details all the way from the beginning.

Tales of misery and woe with strewn optimism when he came to,

the man’s mortality caused fear-come-lethargy and it was so sudden.

Now light years apart from loved ones, as his demise untimely.

His life lay concluded while the memoir has no "End."

 

What about the quiet girl who thought her suffering would never end?

All she needed was to conjure a bit of courage; give herself gentle welcome.

Were there other factors that made her story untimely?

She recited a lackluster mind and limitation from the beginning.

All the time, trepidation for her fears of getting hurt, when all of a sudden,

Demure and diffident, made life unlived; she asks now: Where to?

 

How about the green soldier; where has he gone to?

Weathered, tenacious, and kind yet in the end,

His resolve broken, his judgments were sudden.

Supporting poor kin, a toxic home for an unpleasant welcome,

added salt to the wounded soldier, something was beginning.

He fled from them, even on the cusp of new discovery, M.I.A untimely.

 

Not unlike the jaded woman, whose escape was untimely.

Caught up in business where she need not to.

Had she known, without brash and haste, from the beginning,

she could’ve continued her story, but bankrupt on an abrupt end.

Drowned in debts, from markets of all black welcome,

If she just held on a little longer, a small window would prove sudden.

 

The musical boy’s name was not known, gone from the world so sudden.

Born of a syncopated heart; daunting in fear; so untimely.

The doctor’s unsure of cure; any and all answers welcome.

Wonders, he could keep, in tempo, rhythm hither to;

yet, weak-willed, having no bass to keep from his end.

If passion truly fervent, he would be alive, a last minute beginning.

 

Don’t ask the sharp young lady if she had a beginning.

She was well on her career when came the tragedy so sudden.

Loss of ability to speak, and was at her wit’s end.

Please don’t be sad, it would have seemed too untimely,

there are other ways to express if she proved creative and came to

realize the bosom of writing but ultimately death was at her welcome.

 

There are beginnings that have causal scars of the untimely,

making for sudden despair and untold tales never hearkened back to,

do not fear for the end, embrace what’s before , now and on forth. To them I can say, “You're welcome.”