The old Professor Winterling
had desperately been trying
to find out every single thing
To know all, before dying

He knew about the Keys of Death,
that legendary threesome,
which offered, at one’s final breath,
the knowledge that brings freedom

Through science he found one such key,
religion gave a second
The third hid, where? A mystery!
In art, perhaps, he reckoned

He readied the October Moon,
his old but trusty cloudship
The end was coming very soon
This would not be a round trip

Thus the October Moon did fly
towards the Gates of Hades
It’s there that Winterling did die,
possessing all three gates’ keys