Sovekammer, Vilhelm Hammershøi (1890)
The Empty Chair, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Why is there an empty chair by the bed?
Is there more than what’s already been said,
Of some awful thought which most surely dread,
The fact that someone is really dead.
Does not matter big or small, short or tall,
But sooner or later we all must fall.
Each will wear once the paltry saintly pall,
While the lofty choir sings a pastoral.
None should be eager for that final day,
But live life in the best possible way.
Dividing your time between love and play,
Yet never praying forever to stay.
Best that we can ask if our lives are good,
Lives are temporary is understood.