Libation of time, that goes unpoured
For the corpse, in death immured
While we sit and wait, to feel that weight,
That final pain- and is this it?
To think the clocks we watch, not ours
The hours we lost, were only borrowed
From accounts, surfeit no more
Once we learned life is a bore
Of bills to pay, and fools to bear,
While searching things that were not there;
Have never been but imaginings late,
Of what we never could partake.
Oct 30, 2010
Oct 30, 2010 at 7:18 PM UTC
Libation of time, that goes unpoured
For the corpse, in death immured
While we sit and wait, to feel that weight,
That final pain- and is this it?
To think the clocks we watch, not ours
The hours we lost, were only borrowed
From accounts, surfeit no more
Once we learned life is a bore
Of bills to pay, and fools to bear,
While searching things that were not there;
Have never been but imaginings late,
Of what we never could partake.
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