Every poem should remind the reader that they are going to die.

Thy soul shall find itself alone ’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone— Not one, of all the crowd, to pry Into thine hour of secrecy. Be silent in that solitude, Which is not loneliness—for then The spirits of the dead who stood In life before thee are again In death around thee—and their will Shall overshadow thee: be still. [...]

Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride," The shade replied,- "If you seek for Eldorado.

It all depends on the robber's knowledge of the loser's knowledge of the robber. - Daupin

Every moment of the night Forever changing places And they put out the star-light With the breath from their pale faces

And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.

The goodness of your true pun is in the direct ratio of its intolerability.