Mortal Musings
People leaving, where they’re going,
answers can’t be found.
People trying, then they’re dying,
some scream, but there’s no sound.
Once they walked and talked and sang,
and life was full and bright.
But don’t they see all mystery,
melting into night?
And when the sun grows old and cold,
and a pulsing orb remains,
it will flash to all eternity,
the limits of our gains.
31 May 2016
Copyright © J. I. Thomas F. | Year Posted 2016
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