The End Poem by Paul Butters

The End



Tomorrow’s orb full circle locks;
Now’s dreams, dissolved, are past.
See Time’s eternal, ruling arc,
When,
At the last,
Back,
Back
We
Look:

Our faded lives,
The Art of God;
Though now we Live,
Already are we Dead,
Yet still Alive,
Upon that endless spool of Time.

Saturday, March 1, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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Paul Butters

Paul Butters

Leeds, West Yorkshire.
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