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
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
