Let the threnodies rise,
sing the dirges soft and sad,
bring the mourners to keen up to heaven.
Let the tolling begin,
long, slow, sonorous,
here the strands of Dies Irae proclaim,
the day of wrath approaches.
With each choice that says bad is good,
good is bad,
sterility is abundance,
death is choice,
God is nil,
man is all,
spirit is myth
and all is dust,
We man the death watch
that says farewell to the bright and wonderous promise
that once was western civilization,
and see it take its place
next to Sumeria,
and Assyria,
the Parthians,
the Anasazi,
and join the dead cities,
Mycenae,
Knossos,
Ur,
Babylon.
and all the others
in being in the past.
The future it looks, belongs to others.
dang knitting, i am ready to lay down for a dirtnap after reading that!
I found your elegy very sad. Please don't do it again.