Sonnet I: Death's express.
A table for a meal for two old men.
Catching up stories for what they have lived.
The word of friend to those words of a pen.
Dire moments of the past they have outlived.
Wisdom is speckled in the mind of old.
Digressing from youth preserving moral.
Coming closer to death is never cold,
When you're in contact with your life long pal.
With every delicious food they bite in,
They had stepped in a world they created;
"Oh' the memories, friend where have you been?"
He's delighted for this day awaited.
We're now here on the road, on death's express.
Eat this meal and drink this wine, free from stress.
-Marcmire
Metre : Iambic Pentameter
Language : Modern English
Rhyming Pattern : ABABCDCDEFEFGG
You used a poem randomizer.. or a meter? This one is nice :") quite light too but it was an enjoyable read