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Rated: E · Poetry · Inspirational · #948429
The poet dreams that he is in the grave. And, he muses…….
THE MORTAL DREAM: an acrostic—award winner
[The poet dreams that he is in the grave. And, he muses…….]

Though it is true I did breathe,
How it seemed I was dead!
Earth below me was my home
And limbs were dead as lead.

If this was a glimpse of death,
Rare it did have impact.
Lasting though a brief moment,
At once it showed this fact:

‘Certainty of life has none;
Knows none when it will end.
Entangled in daily chores,
Day and night we pretend

That we’ll be ever on earth,
Howsoever Death try.
Entangled we may be, but,
Escape we shall its tie.

No, we never think of death,
Even though its vile dance
Reminds us that we, too, may
Get under its sharp lance.

Yes, but that is the bare truth,
Though, an unpleasant one.
On and on in jaws of death
Move men, women, children.

O, our Father! grant us this:
Verily we proceed
Ever in truth indeed.


* An acrostic written around the prompt:"The air lacked the energy to move".
* Written in abcb 7-6-7-6 format
* Special mention award in the Every Week Something New Contest, item 708935, "Invalid ItemOpen in new Window..
* Showcased as Editor’s Choice in the Poetry Newsletter dated 16 June 2010.


M C Gupta
12 March 2005
© Copyright 2005 Dr M C Gupta (mcgupta44 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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