Life

Life is simply death not done
a race that’s run but never won.
The toil of moving through each day
knowing there’s no better way.
To finally die is a release;
at last a soul that’s left in peace.
My end will come – I wait my time
the final words in this strange rhyme.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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