Living Death (an experiment)

 

Drop of rain falls,

a moment passes,

a storm comes and is gone.

Fallen time is wasted,

grasp as you can.

 

Another day has slipped by

another beyond reach.

Empires flicker in the mind,

dwell there.

They rise again

gleaming towers in the sun.

They crumble to dust;

dreams they are.

 

Penny upon the walk

passed, lack of interest,

never held,

never grown,

lost.

 

Love not voiced,

fear of rejection,

nothingness and sorrow,

chanced could bloom with joy

or pass no great pain.

 

Tell what can be told.

Feel what can be felt.

These are joy and sorrow.

Death is nothingness,

inaction.

 

About johnsmithiiimxiii

John Smith, IIMXIII is the avatar of an award winning poet, artist, etc. who still lives in the Palouse country of the Pacific NW. He has not received much notice with his prose . . . but as his avatar, I hope that he keeps plugging along.

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