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Pride Be Hubris Run Amok
41.
Resist I Must
Pride is hubris run amok
To rot the soul within.
It rises from the depths of hell...
The deadliest of sins.
It is the snake that slithers so
To pervert both bold and brave.
It may appear the luminous rainbow
But at its end... a pauper's grave.
Resist I must... if resist i can
To this bastard's sad decree.
Knowing counted among the fallen...
Are far better men then me.
The End
42.
Sorrow on the Vine
My thoughts were sorrow on the
Vine... my brain in some distress.
I carried on, as best I could
With an effort to suppress.
But malcontent was soon to be
As despondency quickly grew.
I will go to bed... to sleep the night...
And tomorrow start anew.
The End
43.
The Wretch
A wretch upon the gallows stood...
Devoid of any plan... while
Life was weathered astride the door
And Death cackled near at hand.
The Angels sang as Angels do
When one answers Heaven's bell.
But judge not those about the gallows...
Lest you be judged as well.
The End
44.
The Clock is Ticking
If you cling incessantly,
Counting down your final breath...
Consuming supplements and vitamins
To cheat the Reaper of a death.
But the clock is ticking... ever ticking..
And when you meet a timely end...
Embrace Death in all its glory
And make of it a friend.
Fear not the specter of Life's decay...
But if such a thing should be.
Let Church bells ring and Angels
Sing... as you shed mortality.
The End
45.
A Thought Was Had
A thought was had, and had it was...
To a point beyond dispute.
I surprised myself, I did, I did...
It seemed to bear some fruit.
I bandied it with knitted gloves
Concerned for it to break.
I crept about the boarding house
To rouse my friends to wake.
We gathered round the bellied stove
To hear my thought defined... but by
Then, the thought I had, I thought I had...
Completely slipped my mind.
The End
Copyright ©
David Mchattie
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