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A digital painting I did of Henry III putting a little flesh to his skull.
Acrostic: Waiting to Die
©October 13th 2021, Olan L. Smith
Wait, the greeter said, linger here awhile longer
And I will see if we have a chair for you
In our reception room. Oh, the respite.
Time should be under a hundred years, you're
In limbo, after all. You've another test life to come.
Never forget, your enhancement awaits!
Going someplace in a hurry. It'll be delayed.
Time is meaningless, bar the cleansing to come,
On the world we choose, we need to cull the crowd.
Don't like the concept? Too bad, we control the lot of you,
In this temporal sentence. Do you contest to become immortal?
Eventide, you say? You've just begun your trip to godhood.
A/N: This is my Halloween themed poem, it is meant to frighten, happy wait time.
YOU ARE READING
Poems from the Quill, by Olan L. Smith
Poetry"Poems from the Quill" is where I place current works that don't fall into other collections. It is here you will find obscure poems that range from constraint to free-verse. I began this collection as a contest entry, years ago, for what was then t...
