Monday, April 10, 2006


I decided to play around with an old poem--expand and update it, so to speak


Can I presume to speak of life,
Tell the world the little I know?
Speak of life as though I have
But a few short years to go?

What I know now is precious little
I have seen what I have seen
I have list’ned to the siren’s call
And spurned the Garden Green.

I know that karma has it’s way
To bring proud men to their knees
Turning gold to dross, riches to rags
Changing toadies into fleas.

I know that God has His simple ways
To rule the lives of men
To change the course of time and tide
Makes emperors of children.

I know luck is a fickle lady
As soon in arms as in bed
To bring great riches of evermore
Then change the gold to lead

I know that men have their own say
In how they see this world
Some see a burning hell on earth
Others, Golden gates a-pearled

I have seen this world and all the glory
I have dreamed of ones beyond
I have heard the rotting creak of gates
And wept as Cerberus yawned

I have sung the morning sunrise
I have mourned the waning moon
I know of the infant, too-young night
That perished all too soon.

I know not love, aye there’s the rub,
The transcendent truth, the darkest lie
I know not love. I know not life.
I have worlds to go before I die

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