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The aftermath of one’s journey, The cursed end of man, The dreaded finale, The dead end of all mankind, The best, except what can never be helped.
By Uphill Mind10 months ago in Poets
The hourglass, a symbol profound, Capturing the essence of time unbound, In its shapely form, a story untold, Of fleeting moments and tales of old.
Where all of time passed, Before the tales of man really began, Where the good and bad collide, And prosecutions undergone.
Aching, bearing, Drifting farther away, Is a lone heart, With nowhere to turn, And no help at hand. With no one’s understanding
By Uphill Mind11 months ago in Poets
When the sun sets, And the moon's full glare awakes, The magical hour has come. When things beyond man occur, And the magical beings appear.
A fallen angel, From the highest mountains, At the mercy of its smallest prey. On the brink of death, it was. With naught but a tale to tell,
A rare site to see, So, it is said by the old. The brightest of all, With the tiniest shimmer, At first sight. In the midst of many,
Lurking in the darkness, Behind each shadow, Is the premonition of fear, Forever with you. You may run and hide, But there is never escape
Life takes tolls and turns When we least expect it to Sometimes good sometimes bad But once done, can hardly ever be reversed
Arrive alone at the new beginning, All strangers at first meeting. As time goes by, Friends made, and enemies gained. As time keeps moving,
Singing and dancing, In the local pub. With not one penny, Laughing and jesting, All day long. When night’s come, And payment’s asked,
I remember the nights Spent at grandfather’s side. When the moon hides, And the evening star evades No vision I can see,