Grave matters
Grave matters gravely trueGod gives chances few,
churlish sounds,the predators of the fiends,
beckon with torn pieces of worthless leaves,
all bonds of relations
and all requests of neccessities,
stoop to bid them bye
as the herald of soily rest
comes about to be fastidious
but prideful breath makes,
risible fables of fatal play,
the seers of twinkling stars,ostracize,
the erratic moods of the hideous day.
Poetry by Amna Ehsan
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Written on 2008-03-22 at 08:54
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