On the cusp of life that one called life,
Youth all shared, shall have it's say;
Open or shut a dying man grows blind.
No dying man,
These written words back when men
Always died.
Into that good night the wise would always like,
Giving hope when hope was faith and faith was all
Men had.
Rage denial that the sun would set and never rise,
Good men and the bad their equal lot's.
While women wailed about a man a man that never lived
As men should live.
And you my father priest who cried for none at all
And cursed me with a blessing none should have.
Into that good gentle night, eye's closed in peace reposed,
A dying man nor women dead will ever see the light.
Copyright © James McLain | Year Posted 2017
Into that good night the wise would always like giving hope and faith. Brilliant and powerful poem is beautifully shared.10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An intriguing poem, echoing long after reading it.