The Final Day Poem by Tony Adah

The Final Day



Any day anyone doth go
Death blare not any arrival horn
Get him take thee home
With ease
Shalt thy soul according to
Thy deeds rest.
Those who wore head to toe
Sang best of hymns
And sat in the pews thus reserve
In the fore of houses
With spires and minarets above;
Admire themselves while the sermon
Tale is on
The gateman in strictness
Of thy days record keep
And when thou knock
On the door, the solid lock
Thus deaf become;
And thy days of yore
Yet reflect in the gatekeeper's eye
Hades thou turn thy head to
And burn like coal
Gnash thy teeth
When thy end doth come.

Thursday, October 15, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: fate
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