by Orual
You the living know not I,
Who lurks in time and ancient lore,
And wanders in when night is nigh
To fill my daily taxing chore.
You the living know not I,
Whose name the human soul abhors,
And steals away a final sigh
Despite the heart-sick soul's implore.
You the living know not I,
Whose darkest deed you dare to court,
To recklessness does heave a sigh
As fools deny what I purport
And you the living long deny
The verity that a life is short,
And at the end, you wonder why
Your views of death did so contort.
But to you the living, I consent to bow;
And this, however soft avowed--
Truth falls from my fatal lips,
I admire thee, thy joy eclipsed
By sorrow, never far to find
A smile survives my bitterest rime,
And not the same is said of me,
Separate from life--and eternity.
I don't even know what to say about this. The diction is so crisp and yet the rhythm is so fluid and subtle. The two play off each other well. I think the author did a great job with this sort of style, and with such a difficult theme.
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