Beneath shadow’s tender grasp, I stand undone,
A tombstone whispers secrets etched in stone.
Contemplating fate in hues of twilight’s breath,
I ponder silently, dancing with looming death.

How will I be etched in memory’s clay?
Life’s great mosaic, for the light of day.
Shall I be the echo of laughter’s sweet refrain,
Or a sombre note, stained with unspoken pain?

In the rhythm of life, this cosmic rhyme,
I seek everlasting existence, transcending space and time.
Do I yearn for accolades, or a laurel wreath,
Perhaps I crave the solace of an unmarked heath?

My Mistresses’ spirit guides this introspective quest,
Through the song of life, some poignant soulful jest.
Tombstone, tell me, in the twilight’s final gleam,
What shall we sculpt as the legacy of my fleeting dream?