On Constant Not Life's Hours Yet Decline
Shall it human's life as quivering clouds like wandering in its urge?
Such do e'en curious flee, yet yearning thoughts as strangers risky have,
Owes the starless nights a haunting dream about our fickle image,
Since these roaming bees of despair are hiding keen its dismal hive.
Hope and strain are earthly elements, fame it do mold a mortal gate,
Then by with day by day lament, doom to us faint its wondrous dread.
O' Constant not life's hours if violent call's do therewith seconds fate,
Thence finds eludible isolation; where do have an unshaken death?
Life, whose breathing spirit veils a doomed attire
On earth, when our dreams are like a dissolved tale,
Of untamed fate be muted us, and no more
See the beautiful human frames with a honied smile.
When there be the voidness among the lamenting throng,
with beating hearts to bear the blush of cursing hours,
Where latest human loss and hopelessness will bring,
Wondrous blow, say death is sure and all it bothers.
Why show the inflated sense and status, o' man
How heavy pride in you still gleaming, richly high
Enchainded by common falsehood where wild and wan
Is all beauty you seen and all is withering nigh.
When False pride, whose torment pelts living world
Will we feel like an embalmer moving odious;
Where as your's man birth and by a quick shrinking wild,
Worth a desert, bow only knees to immortal pious
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (On Constant Not Life's Hours Yet Decline by Nithin purple )
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