With each step: one, two, three and the next,
To the grave down thy feet thou move ahead;
Worms and all that wait there for their feast
Shall devour thy eyes, thighs and thy tiny feet.
Copyright © July 23, 2019, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay
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Thank you so much, Sona!!
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Yes, our death is a worms’ banquet. At least, every single bit will be “recycled”. Well written with an air of old poetry using the forms “thou” and “thy”. Shakespearian reminiscences.
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Thank you so much, Marta.
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You are welcome.
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Lol, good one.
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Thank you so much for this great comment!!
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We cannot avoid death. So there we all go. Looking for company to worms. Your poem is very good and it is also a good reminder.
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Thank you so much, macalder02, for this great comment!! 🙂
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