A shadow swoops over the valley
and now the day is dim
foretelling quite a tally
so ominously grim
the Reaper's wicked whim
his sickle is terribly biting
the bevelled blade so keen
there's really no use in fighting
but still we contravene
forever in between.
Are You Reading Me?
We fight the inevitable so often! And, you're right, it's to no avail.
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot Jack, this sat for a long time but I guess the time was right to finish it so I did.
ReplyDelete