I have spent my life working, toiling
Cultivating a perception of wealth
Unknowingly, Deceiving myself
Thinking I…., will ever get the chance, to
Harvest the fruits of my labor
The sum of my days has come
I lay upon the lush green grass
I take in the view of eternity
For beneath this ground
I will reside, Interred in all its glory
if by chance a seed should sprout
And reach by root my coffin
The fruit it bares may be bitter sweet
A poisonous concoction
In this peaceful place an evil sleeps
A beautiful abomination
The wealth and riches I gained in life
Mean nothing in damnation
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it's painful when what we have worked for becomes the illusion it always was! great poem!