When, through the dark, a choking gray fog creeps up in ghastly swirls
And the reaper comes by to tell you it's time to stop your carnal twirls
What would you rather do? Surrender the thread with not a whine
Or fight till your last breath as if it's all the world on the line?
Do you sound the horns, battle for mercy, for one last chance?
Bandish your sword at the forces, bargain for one last dance?
Or do you lose your armour, still stand with valour, drop your shield away?
Like a knight disgraced, lost in battle, a broken ship swept from bay?
Both a losing game, a pointless war, a fight to the very death
Yet both worth the war, worth the blood, worthy of every breath.
What would you rather do? Do what's noble in the eyes of the greats
But is all but cowardice and folly by the ways of the fates?
Or the easy way out, a dance to the rhythm of a pre-written testimony?
No sound but silence, and the noise of compliance to your destiny.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryPieces of poetry that hope to create vivid imagery, colourful worlds all your own and most importantly, intricate emotions waiting to be deciphered that can help you in your own endeavours as a creator.
