Et in Arcadia Ego

Here we lie
in our bed of stone
beneath a mild sky.
Nicely tucked in. You and I.
Did we go peacefully
beneath the azure sky?
Perhaps. But don’t ask why
cruel Atropos snipped our cord of life.

Once wedded to an illusion,
now forever parted,
abandoned in this bed of stone
beneath a cloud-stippled sky,
our beginning is our end.
We are like the worm that swallowed its tail.

Therefore, let us not pretend
that our fondest hopes prevail
over what is predestined.
We who are dead
lie forever embedded in stone
beneath this mild sky.
Et in Arcadia ego.
No one knows why.