All the World a Stage
What is happiness but a beautiful act?
on a tightrope strode alone feigning bravery
flaunting its audience gifted talents lack?
while time proceeds its merciless journey
it’s senselessness never peering back?
like in dreams lucidness its arts beauty
confines self heedlessly to thoughts forgotten
whisked away in days languor like perfumes sweet lilac
once a memory mirrored of youths reachy lusts
but if not time whose candor trust, its essence humbles the stage
the soul bares wounds exchanged for loves bribery
rested in Promethean's casket his undying name
until earth’s fate ignites its survival aflame…
Copyright © Christopher Orman | Year Posted 2016
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