I heard your song by the black Acheron
All salt-soaked and tugging on strings that at once
let rip heavy bellows and wimbering shrieks
Sure tore up them bellies of wander-lost freaks

But I who cuts noses, clips ties and old cosys

Fared dance, drink and drown in that murkdrab of poseys.

A short poem inspired by the three fates of Greek Mythology (Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos) who spin the thread of fate, allot a length to each person, and cut the thread when your time is up.