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
Advertisements
Beautiful
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you so much, Sona!!
LikeLike
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.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you so much, Marta.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lol, good one.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much for this great comment!!
LikeLike
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.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, macalder02, for this great comment!! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person