Sonnets

Sonnet XV

Another grain of sand falls in the pit

With each one comes one more day of despair

Thousands of grains already into it

Falling many miles through the cold air

Another grain, not much left at the top

Not much at the bottom, because there's none

Just an empty void, the grains never stop

But they sure as hell will not see the sun

Down to nine or ten grains still hanging on

Always speeding up, never slowing down

When it stops will there be pros or be cons?

Likely both, but we will find out now.

   The last grain slowly falls into the void

   Any feeling whatsoever destroyed.