morituri te salutant


The Final Battle



To be told how one will die
Is a curious moral comfort
The wolf till then in hidden sly
Becomes now seen in full retort

Now the enemy is revealed
It’s horrid weapons on display
No subterfuge no wicked field
Of deathly traps or sudden slay

Both now know the horrid path
The way is fixed inexorable
But not the time for that last act
is a clash of wills negotiable




Poetry by josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 312 times
Written on 2020-09-04 at 13:30

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Nicely written, Joe. Mortal prognoses aren't always accurate. I was given, at best, ten more years of life nearly twenty years ago by an oncologist who ended up dying of brain cancer. I'm still doing quite well. Perhaps my wolf has decided to take a nap.
2020-09-04