Friday, 28 December 2018

Abandoned by the Dead

We are abandoned by the dead.
They leave us all alone-eo.
They hint there's nothing to be said,
Save that we must soon come over-o.

They care not about anything at all on earth,
Forgetting now what made them tick;
Equal are failure and success,
Striving no better to them than drift.

About our ambitions or problems now,
Devil the hair they care;
Disinterest registers in their eyes,
And into space they stare.

It's not, "It no longer matters", but,
"It never mattered at all".
Once you step over the boundary,
It is not worthy to recall.

“Killarney” means naught but “cell of the haw.”
They rove around without laugh or cry.
When we call the names of those now gone,
Sorrow the one of them will reply.

Still we chew upon the pie,
Though hard is the over-bakéd crust,
And the over-shelféd fruit is dry:
We might as well chew upon the dust!

We are abandoned by the dead.
But one thing that they cry out, all,
With one almighty, shout of dread,
Is that we will soon come over-o.

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