Many A Man Hath Died Poem by Rowan Welch

Many A Man Hath Died



Go, encant the name that hides itself-
From the void that leads both sides.

Many a man hath done so-
Many a man hath died.

All in all, a favor you must ask-
In that which always ceases to exist,

Seemingly, at the time you’re granted a task,
And parasites turn to cysts.

But now the light is seen-
In it’s artificial brightness.

And conformity is keen-
Inevitably, you will cry less.

So just as what had caused you pain,
You wander yet again-

To feel once more a stroke on mane,
You’ll never learn, my friend.

Thursday, May 14, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: disappointment
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