The funeral offerings by a sepulcher for Eternity to a soul departed,
Crossing the River of the Styx to the gate of the Underworld,
Paying a fee to Charon for carrying the soul of the departed,
For without it, he will refuse to let him board his ferryboat indeed,
And the soul will wander around the shore for a hundred years stupefied
By Eternal Slumber in the amidst of the laments sung by those left behind
Until they are heard no more, seen no more, believed no more, and banished
Into the ancient all with his shattered dreams shuddered with fear – all in nil ended,
Are burnt in the funeral pyre as the embers spirit away in great red.
A Cat in the Mirror 