There is no sense in this, this endless play
Conceived in ancient mists, and dragging on
Through ev'ry wretched age. I curse the day
The curtain rose upon this farce, upon
This sick parade of skulls and dagger thrusts;
Its undramatic ending we surmise,
Yet still we sit through sighs and countless lusts
Until, shock horror! ev'ry player dies.
-
Author:
davmor73 (
Offline) - Published: October 29th, 2017 02:36
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 20
Offline)
Comments2
Unfortunately, true and inevitable!
As my Dad would say...
No escape!
We all have to die one day!
Well, he’s gone and
so will I one day!
Good write!
Very well written.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.