PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In the deepest deep I feel

A lower deep still threatens.

Myself, I am hell

The more I dream,

the less I can believe

And this long run is misleading,

Are we not all dead?

Happiness is the shadow of things past

And earth, with her million voices

Asks us now

Who then is free?

Every bird loves to hear himself sing

But 'The lilies that fester,

smell far worse than weeds'.*

And when all the world dissolves

And there is nothing more to take

What becomes of us then?

My friend,

I will be long gone

And as the ashes return to earth



I pray



That I never again

Pass along this way.