On a misty morning in early February,
Sauntering along the lonely Ganges without company,
I stumbled across a scene that made my guts wry-
A dead man on the muddy banks.
I waited, and waited, and then saw a dream:
In some certain future,
I too would join him.
And all my love,
And all my hate,
They wouldn't change the taste of the flesh
As the raven scavenges my head.
Why, then, must we strive?
If no effort amounts enough
To be death's bribe.
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Author:
Agantuk (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 12th, 2024 06:01
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this in chemistry class lol.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 26
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments1
I am not sure where my original comment went, lol! I may have accidentally deleted it, but I really did enjoy your poem. Wonderfully done. Again, glad that chemistry class was your muse...but seriously, keep this up. You've got great talent! 🖤❤️🖤👏
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