Inferno
It seems to me, we all must be, The question without end, We fill the finite void with us, Whilst we play pretend. Run and Jump and Fall we must, This harrowing descent, And climb the purgatory mount, Which I now ascend. The writing is on the wall for us, Or rather, on our heads, Until the day that equalness, Renders all the guilty, dead.
Ad
Poetry Books 50% Off
Bestselling collections from top poets
Shop Now →
