Sonnet L: Death is Us

©08-16-2023, Olan L. Smith

Not difficult to do, to say, or hear —

We laugh toward darken tower's night—

To sing aloud and chortle in lost woods.

No paths, no guide, still filled with glee, just lost.

We walk past lengthy queues at temple doors

For we the dead — the youthful stand aside.

We salt the dirt with rotted flesh, and pain

Is death — a chamber opens wide to gulp.

The tears for seven billion lives demise

A hope, a flame, you choose which door you take.

Alas, our death again, and hostel tents

To take our soul, and bring us home, once more.        

       Excised facades and hope, no friends enjoin

       Our death, just ashes evermore disentwined.

A/N: This is a blank verse sonnet, meaning the verse is iambic pentameter with no rhyme scheme.