The Demons Voice
These things, these demons, cannot be predicted
for it is not the province of the vain
to view forthcoming perils as their own
race past life’s looming cautions with disdain
Destined by their folly to abstain
ignore precursors of life’s coming woes
for youth, t’is said, “is wasted on the young”
age, alas, left struggling in its throes.
Surrounded by the gators of their swamp
beseeching of dead gods that it be drained
remain addicted to the demons slain
youth seeking death before old ages reign.
Destined, as it were, by dint of choice
destined to succumb to demons voice.
©9/19/2019
Eight Word Challenge Poetry Contest
Emile Pinet - sponsor
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