Font Color='#880000'What Is This Place Called Life? /Font Poem by David Zvekic
Font Color='#880000'What Is This Place Called Life? /Font
What is this place called life? That lonely thing
Which cruelly wipes out dreams that beings bring?
How then to persevere in living when
These all are doomed: the lives of beasts and men?
But if we should, by some discovery
Of nobler science or philanthropy,
Ourselves a beacon raise and thus go on
To mean more than mere life to anyone:
Then tho' there is no promised kingdom come
We could, in lieu, our meager selves become
Important to the fate of this mankind
Tho' now we die and be but a rushing wind
In that breath with which may future mankind sing.
What is this place called life? That lonely thing?
I enjoyed this one very much. The title reminds me of that Frank Sinatra song... The flow is natural even if the language is somewhat old english at time it doesn't distract, at least for me. I think this one may be your best yet! IMHO Sincerely Ronberge
Uumh... a very interesting question indeed. I enjoyed this poem. Thanks! Sincerely, Seán
Well stated. This journey of life is a process shared though our 'discoveries' seem somewhat a lonely adventure! Congratulations. LSP
David K.Z Indeed..perhaps all our meagre selves are one, so lonely we should not become..... I like this poem and the question it provokes. Egal Bohen
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 9:55:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
excellent write, indeed what is this life if there is nothing more, the questions we cannot answer make it a lonely place.