Gordon G Hall
Writer and Neo-Philhellene

Poetry for Burying


Being carried away, in solitary state,
to the place of the dying. Where live men hate
their deeds of destruction, the evil they’ve done,
fear victims they vanquished, lose battles they’ve won.
They feel the tide’s turning, now death draws so near
as their cold souls shrivel to slivers of fear.

But for others their dying means promise of rest
for Heaven ’s for no one, not even the blest;
oblivion enters and settles the score
taking us all, whether rich, whether poor;
ensuring that those who would walk with the Gods
will end up as Nitrogen – nourishing Sods!



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Distant Fells
Inspiration from this glorious world.