Categories > Original > Poetry
Death's maque
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Death's maque
Five months have gone past,
While the subjects breathe their last
And their brave guards of grief fast;
Neither hurting nor aghast.
And so the die is cast.
As the weak wails die down,
Dancers waltz around and around,
Forgetting Death's unyielding dominance,
Through rooms 7; the last without Providence.
Tick-tock, Tick-Tock.
Death bypasses iron lock,
Smiles only to scare and mock
His gay and secluded flock;
His heart, like theirs, cold rock.
The pendulum strikes ominous 12;
The bloody lord appears to claim
His thousand of noble fame.
So to Hades the souls delve,
And out flickers the flame.
Five months have gone past,
While the subjects breathe their last
And their brave guards of grief fast;
Neither hurting nor aghast.
And so the die is cast.
As the weak wails die down,
Dancers waltz around and around,
Forgetting Death's unyielding dominance,
Through rooms 7; the last without Providence.
Tick-tock, Tick-Tock.
Death bypasses iron lock,
Smiles only to scare and mock
His gay and secluded flock;
His heart, like theirs, cold rock.
The pendulum strikes ominous 12;
The bloody lord appears to claim
His thousand of noble fame.
So to Hades the souls delve,
And out flickers the flame.
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