The Waiting Grave
The
Waiting Grave
Tramping
down the broadened way
Traveling
by night and day
Never
can you turn away
From
the waiting grave.
Paths
may turn and twist and split
Ways
may be dim or bright-lit;
All’s
the same at the end of it
In
the waiting grave.
Time’s
our master and our Fate
Comes
not too soon nor too late;
Men
are heading, small and great,
For
the waiting grave.
Death
will find us, every one
And
once finding, we are done
With
this life. We’ll become one
Life
is costly, every day
Nothing
‘till it slips away;
Death’s
the price we all must pay
To
the waiting grave.
Bodies,
souls and hearts galore
Who
have tramped this way before
Add
their corpses to the morgue:
Fill
the waiting grave.
Age
won’t stay nor Time hold still;
There’s
a yawning maw to fill
Give
up life and love you will
To
the waiting grave.
There’s
a place where ashes burn
Forever
to fill the urn;
Once
gone in, there’s no return
From
the waiting grave.
2 people are talking about this
O.O This is DARK, my friend. Enticingly horrifically wonderfully dark. The line: "Death will find us, every one" sent shivers down my spine, and just wow, this entire poem did to be honest. O.o
ReplyDelete*chuckles darkly* It was very fun to write.
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