My Precious Son Unendingly I mourn my precious son Too early yet this earthly home he left, Perfidious sleep confounded nature's order To leave his loves perpetually bereft. Those golden dreams and aspirations, The seed of yesterday a withered bloom, Those baubles which are cause to celebrate In death now mock us gently from his tomb. How treacherous death does steal on youth's exuberance, To wreak such havoc from the ecstasy of life, Where once was only joy and future promise Tormented hearts endure eternal strife.