All is not after all
So worthwhile
In fancy feathers fraught
And golden glowing style,
Tis better still
To lonely scale the darkest night
Naked 'cept thy own will
With none other than
Creations single guiding Light;
For the gates of hell
Look so sophisticated and swell,
But tis only in Heaven
Where the greatest riches stored
Shall forever be given.
Swim now in champagne pools alone
While just beyond your gilded-gated throne
The 'lower-ones' die diseased of thirst,
Yet one day
You will recall what God did say:
'The time is at hand mortal man
When the first shall be last
And the last shall be first.'
Very true and a good poem. I like the flow and rhythem and the way you brought it all together at the end. Excellent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, we stand in fancy feathers fraught by the gilded gated throne and say that which we really aught- - Hmmmmmmm. But I love this poem anyway!