Chances are we won't live long enough to see
The many things we never really wanted to see
Hoping Death comes at night, by sleep or by wine
After pouring our ink for the very last time.
And the Seers shall dance, while the Oracles cheer
The Soothsayers order their last keg of beer
Come one, come all, lay your Crosses on down
Judgement doth cometh by the thorn bloody Crown.
FjR-MMXX
Frank James Ryan Jr
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem