Cape, Costume, Mask

No, I'm not managing, and, since you ask,
I don't think there's a future in these rooms.
I tried with alcohol, I tried with brooms,
But I found there was nothing in the flask
That worked, and sweeping up was just a task,
Not a vocation. "Meet me at the tombs,"
I told my mother. "Double up the looms,
Make me a cape, a costume, and a mask."

I never promised you that I would try,
Not even for a month, much less a week.
My life is over now, the world is bleak,
And things change. I can't really tell you why.
It wasn't time for anyone to die.
It isn't time for anyone to speak.