Dis Solution Dissipation

Weighted with darkness of impending doom
each waits alone, alike to friend and foe
as deaf as stone, as heedless of each blow.
Who cares what curtains drape eternal gloom?
No will, however strong, when death will loom,
pride vaunts oblivious to oblivion's slow
approaching icy grip from tip to toe -
as though dissolving essence could make room
for Hope at Act’s end. Wormcast catacomb,
Life’s dust dispersal tomb rehearsal show
is headlong blown along Time’s one way flow,
tomorrow naught can conjure from Past's womb.
From darkness stark may flesh fresh flake again,
unfettered spark, from wake wake, cry_oh_gain! ?

© Jonathan Robin – sonnet robi3_0612 written 17 January 2001 revised 11 April 2008
previous title - Into Dust Dissolve

cry_oh_gain... cryogen

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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