The Precipice of the Unknown
Teetering on the edge of the precipice unknown
The depth of the fatal plunge to an eternal oblivion,
Is of little or no concern to him who suffers in pain
Who cannot control his colors like the chameleon,
But prepares to hurtle downward into open abyss
Who, without considering cues of his future domain,
Says farewell to present earthly toil with a last kiss
Considers not the seeds of anger and turmoil sown.
Who willingly forfeits all the rewards of life to come
Empties his pockets of whatever accumulated virtue,
The chaff he casts to winds for this moment’s sake
Like a plaster statue in the Musee he stands in queue,
A golden gate to Evermore awaits his wandering soul
In some future life he may once again be made whole.
[3. The Precipice of The Unknown]
SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written January 29, 2022
Especially for “Pick a Title Vol 28” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Copyright © L Milton Hankins | Year Posted 2022
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