Masterpiece Poem by ENOCH JOHN

Eternal thoughts I think,
Housed in splendid earthenware
Among the fields of time.
'Tis be humanity's darkest 'our I hear;
Thus and thus we are told in rhyme
And oftimes the prose of writers
Speaks volumes of the raging decadence.

Oh! So a masterpiece it is -
Exemplary perfection personified,
Veiled clay-imagery of a body called time;
An inheritance soon to be fully mine.
Such sublime bliss and masterful design,
So, to that Eternal Will I now resign.