Far off in the distance
I hear her fretful wail
No reason or resistance
it would be to no avail
Like Sirens from the ancient ode
she heralds my demise
Inviting me to her abode
and all that it implies
As a lamb unto the slaughter
in innocence I go
A manipulated plotter
of a life I could not know
And thus my friend I go to her
and freely seal my fate
I ask that you do not demur the hour is getting late
And so I bid the world adieu
and leave this disarray
As for the likes of me and you
there can be no other way
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Author:
Coyote (
Offline) - Published: December 16th, 2021 14:49
- Comment from author about the poem: This is an older poem I wrote. A bit clunky but I hope you like🙂
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
Offline)
Comments5
Wow Marie, that's amazing. Thank you my friend.
Goosebumps! I really enjoyed this although I hope I don’t hear her wail too soon!
Thank you so much Rozina🙂
what's meant to be, shall be
all the drama is simply
our inability, to accept
those simple facts of life,
I like the subtlety
in your delivery of wisdom
such a wonderful trait, in a poet
Love the rhythm.
Thanks Draven🙂
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