The Merry-go-round we call life
revolves around us everyday,
from the alarm bells
that summon us for work
until the moonbeams dance across our bed
beckoning us with its call to sleep.
Each day that passes
brings us closer to our destiny,
the day when we can rest our mortal coil
drifting off into an endless sleep.
Our lives are but a mere spec
suspended on a cobweb
tossed to and fro by fate
with the promise of eternity
beyond heaven’s golden gate.
14 September 2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
We live by the clock, we die by the clock... Andy