| A blackness comes forth- thick clouds from the North
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| A serene cemetery atmosphere
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| Transforms into one of melancholy and drear
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| The wretched remaining seek shelter ahead
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| Huddled together, shedding tears for the dead
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| And ‘midst the silence before that storm
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| The beginning of this peculiar tale is born
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| Ravished by infernal winds, hail, and rain
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| A storm surge generated by a deadly hurricane
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| Caskets plucked like feathers and swept into the sea
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| Into a maritime eternity
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| Charles Francis Coghlan, born in Paris, 1842
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| A remarkable actor awaiting his breakthrough
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| Charles Francis Coghlan moved from Ireland to the United States of America
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| His charisma would put a spell on you
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| Talented, handsome, and eccentric
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| A rising star… reaching far
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| Rough waves carrying caskets towards another destiny
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| And most of them sink into the cold blackness of the sea
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| Yet one coffin keeps floating steadily
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| Charles Francis Coghlan- rising star, reaching far
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| Charles Francis Coghlan- rising star, reaching far
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| Charles Francis Coghlan- rising star, reaching far
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| Charles Francis Coghlan- rising star, reaching far…
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| In death
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| Breath-taking was his play, expressing joy, fear, sorrow, and rage
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| He collapsed to the floor
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| And when his applause died down, he truly died on stage
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| Charles was no more
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| Day and night dancing and swaying along with the tide
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| Crushing rogue waves pounding the box of death until it’s out of Sight
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| Until there’s no more light
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| Corroded by maritime salts
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| Submerged into the ocean’s cold
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| Sinking away from the circling sharks
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| Pulled down into the dark
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| Charles Francis Coffin- rising star, reaching far
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| Charles Francis Coffin- rising star, reaching far (in death)
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| Charles Francis Coghlan- rising star, reaching far
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| Charles Francis Coghlan- rising star, reaching far
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| In death
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| (Taken by the wave from its Texan grave
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| Coghlan’s coffin drifted like a ghost along the American coast
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| Until 7 years later, after the storm had abated
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| The casket was found washed ashore on Canadian ground
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| We are artists for life until the last drop has been shed
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| And true artists will always perform until their very last breath
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| Even within the cold and timeless theatres of death) |