In perfect sight I see what’s come to pass.
You look at what has become of me proud.
If only there was a route through time, fast.
It’s passing waits for no discussion now,
Of its illusory being. Refrains,
From malicious temptation? Indifferent.
We’ll forge on alone beside mans best bane.
Though a companion of ours, unpleasant.
In fear or pride we think it’s forgotten?
Who would remind death of our numbered days?
And at the door of eternity, one,
Perhaps would ask what’s this last toll to pay?
There’s nowhere else to go but through the door.
Here time won’t follow, you’re alone. Go forth.
Posted in Life and death, Sonnets
Tagged bane, companion, death, door, eternity, fear, follow, poem, poetry, pride, sonnet, time, toll
Shall he remain fallen cold, buried here?
The various pains of living follow him.
And waking up to a grey sky so clear,
A midday light beyond the moon grows dim.
They were followed here, this is nothing new.
They know better than this untrodden path.
Before them, those that followed, they were few,
Fewer still who returned. Dim: this light past.
After they will break as water on rock,
They will scatter as shadows in the light.
Here the new headstones do nothing to block.
Various pains drive residents to flight.
I’ll dream of things unspoken, rest undone,
In my shallow sleep gift under the sun.
Posted in Sonnets
Tagged buried, dim, fallen, follow, grey, Moon, pain, path, poem, poetry, rest, shadow, sky, sleep, sun