The course of my last wish

It was my final wish
To be eternally lingering in the winds of Dublin.
It was an inner drive,
The dales of my pearlescent days were compelling.

For long, several years
I was breathing the air of the Thames.
For decades six and more
I was sauntering around Westminster.

Those Royal flavors were ever-prolific
Those chimes of Big Ben were a melodious Minuet.
Life to me was an Old Curiosity Shop
In an idyllic trove*, my days were tasteful.

My native haunts were compelling me
Beaumont was all the while beckoning me.
There was a chest of love, deep and fresh,
Ever inviting the garden of my boyhood days;

And it was twilight and the beginning of night,
I expressed my final wish and crossed the last hill.
I lay waiting for my home-coming
An urn carried my final dreams.

And I bid farewell to the city lights,
To all those familiar corners and bosom friends.
I left behind all my legacy and whispering tales
To be lulled forever by the seasons of Dublin.

And the momentous hour finally arrived,
I received my last rites.
From a jutting rock to waves far below
A trail of tears followed my final course.

Out of the neck, I nearly jumped,
Out of the urn I nearly sprang.
I remained breathless for my final release,
The gush of yore* flooded my heart.

It was a long and impatient wait,
Time trickled, and the neck was tightly caught!
With the silicone epoxy* seal, it was all over!
Within the urn forever, my fate was so sure.

The roaring waters received my urn,
The parting knell made a solemn dirge.
With parting glances and whispering sighs,
They bid a silent farewell and turned their eyes.

All the voices ended in a heavy splash;
All the sighs melted in the rushing winds.
Behind me lay the fading coastal lines
Before I spread the expansive blues

Upon the lap of strong currents,
It was for long, a floating life.
And, upon the chest of the tossing waves,
It was the beginning of yet another tale.

In the course of whirls and wind,
Across the passages of a pod of whales,
To East and East, my fate was clear,
To Liverpool Bay, my ways were sure.

Far from Dublin, my lingering dreams,
Far from my roots, much beyond my wish,
My crypt* finally clanged the Liverpool Docks,
The course of my dreams finally ended there.

The docks were then under expansion,
Work was going in full swing.
Machines clinked all around
The foundations were on the rise.

A strong wave and a great sweep,
That was my last glimpse of the wild.
The docks forever swallowed the urn,
I got nailed until the end of the world!

The waves were now a faintly whisper,
Howling winds no more troubled my eternal sleep.
Life to me all seemed an unplanned game
What was the ultimate compendium* of life?

Between the lashing waves and the toll of time,
Where is man and the realization of his final wish?
The entire world is an open stage
Life indeed is a plot without a structured script.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Idyllic = leasing or picturesque in natural simplicity.
Trove = Treasure
Yore = Past
Silicon Epoxy = It is the seal fixing the lid. Once it is done, the lid cannot be removed.
Crypt = Grave
Compendium = A summary of a larger work or a field of knowledge