Que serà serà

benevolentbluebabe

A moment dies and is reborn.
Those who, its pleasure, scorned,
with discontented leisure brimmed
the chalice of a future grim.
'Til one cried with a desperate plea—
To some power above or below—
"Grant me the light to see;
 my future, I must know!
However grim, however plain,
whatever misery—
can be no greater pain
than the nothing that I see."
Her voice in the dark called out,
And the night, in wisdom, said she,
 "Que será será, my child;
  what will be, will be."

  • Author: benevolentbluebabe (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 13th, 2020 00:01
  • Comment from author about the poem: It doesn't do to dwell on things that might have been...
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 15
  • Users favorite of this poem: Nafis Light, MelissaJA, JWKP98
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