The Game

Everyone has a soul to save
Somewhere in time from cradle to grave
Everyone dies as each one must
Flesh to bone to ashes to dust

Time brings age as do we all
Every rise is followed by a fall
Our final journey to the barrows down
We’re laid to rest six feet under ground
We travel by night to Sandman’s sound
In dreams with ghosts of ancestors all around
We all hit the wall

We go to high school and off to college
We become a warehouse of useless knowledge
We live to work and work to live
They always take and never give

For they that start by burning books
Will end by burning men
It will be as bad as it looks
And will happen over and over again

The dead from the battlefield
Will rise up once more
Take up their swords and shields
And they will arrive at your front door
Demanding of you what happened to them
In wars, massacres, chaos and mayhem

There is no such thing as the promised land
And there is no such thing as fate’s guiding hand
And there is no such thing as destiny too
Also, there is no such thing as dreams coming true


We all must bear the shame
And we all must bear the blame
We all have one foot in the grave
Only God can save
The innocent from the guilty
The ones half dead or will be
It’s not a game
But all the same
We all play anyway…
Copyright © | Year Posted 2021

Poem

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