In life’s great game, though death shall claim the prize,
And waits unmoved beyond our fleeting day,
We still possess, beneath uncertain skies,
The sovereign choice of how we wish to play.
We cannot halt the passing of the years,
Nor bargain with the dark that ends the song,
But we may meet the world through love or fears,
And choose what kind of heart will carry on.
Some play for gold, for glory, or for fame,
Some play for truth, for kindness, or for light;
Though all must lose, no soul need play the same,
For grace can turn a brief defeat to right.
So let death win the end it always may,
The deeper art is how we choose to play.
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Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 3rd, 2026 01:09
- Comment from author about the poem: Enjoy every moment you are alive.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, sorenbarrett

Offline)
Comments4
One of my most favourites pieces of yours dear Andy, it's got to be played tried even when it's exhausting even when it isn't going our way we have to move the pieces regardless. Superb poem. 🌹
Thank you Teddy, I am humbled by your comments, much appreciated.
Andy
A most beautiful sonnet my friend this one carries the perfect balance of softness, dark and light, control and its lack, winning in loss and a wonderful rhyme. It can not avoid being a fave
So very kind soren, thank you.
Andy
My pleasure Andy
fine write
Thank you Norman.
Andy
most welcome
A fine write Gold.
Thanks Orchi.
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