No “why?” of golden age At peace with my life-sustaining Looped desires on fixed stage No things to want remaining Labored fact, age doth bring Leaves Chronus parsing truth Calypso discovered not a thing So danced a dance uncouth Bacchus, saw life at its brink Threw up one hand in despair The other offering the drink To Aphrodite goddess fair SO, Mount Goddess’ sacred doom No matter the hue and cry Answer found not in any room The fact: we all must die 0.000000 0.000000 Share this:ShareFacebookWhatsAppEmailRedditLike this:Like Loading... Related Leave a Reply Cancel reply Enter your comment here... Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Email (required) (Address never made public) Name (required) Website You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change ) You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change ) You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change ) Cancel Connecting to %s Notify me of new comments via email. Notify me of new posts via email. Δ Post navigation Previous Previous post: FLOWERS TO COMENext Next post: TERRIBLE GOODNESS
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Gwen's World 
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