“Death may be the greatest of all human blessings” – Socrates.
Throughout my life, I have endured the tide.
Often, I move at a badly slow speed.
Such wanness, as unworthy of its pride,
And every man will foster his own creed
Leave weeping when standing near to my tomb,
A pharynx deprived of moisture and breath.
I'm not there, and I don't sleep in that womb,
It hadn't got any air from its wood sheath.
I am a thousand tainted winds blowing,
It is the light that makes the grain golden,
I am the diamond that shines on snowing,
I am the soft rain that fell in olden.
Shed no tears, my sons, daughters, pals, and wife.
A spoonful held the gist of life and edge
It's said, death is as much a role of life,
All promised love wishes to reach the ledge.
Checked by: HMS.COM
Theme: Death
Written: July 02, 2022
It's All About Three Q's Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
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