Your PhD Matters Not

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Death is very close, Death is very near
He’s coming for your soul, the sum of all your fear

Your youth is all but gone, old age eats at your heart
You pretend it isn’t so, fear tears you apart

You escape into the bottle, the amber liquid brings relief
But when the morning comes, returns your bane and grief

Day by day, hour by hour, ebbs away your life
Your approaching fate, is in your gut a knife

You read this rhyme and quake, to that knife it gives a twist
Soon very soon, no more will you exist

You’ll not die in peace, for weeks you will convulse
You will thresh and writhe, until there is no pulse

Sleep will not deliver you, in Death there’ll be no rest
A burning Hell awaits, Why? You’re the Damned and not the Blessed

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