Fast asleep and lost in thought,
I am doing what I must not;
Advancing age and ending time
Make this less than quiet sublime.
The alarm bell goes off loud,
It’s here to wake my spirit proud;
A chance to cry, a chance to weep,
A dance I forego if I sleep.
The bell keeps ringing, it’s not too late
To make a change before the gate;
A knock that’s only heaven sent,
A life unringing, gone unspent.
The old man looks at me and nods,
A chance connection from the gods;
A twinkle and a peaceful smile,
A look exposing all denial.
The bell it tolls, it tolls for me,
And soon I will be history;
Unknown, unseen, unlived, unhurt,
Unembodied and soon gone to dirt.
And when they write my letters on
A stone, that soon will be forlorn;
The markings of a man in time,
An average spirit, not quite sublime.
© 2013 Marlon de Souza. All rights reserved.