Sonnet XL: Who Stops the Pen?

©12-24-22, Olan L. Smith

To cheat a task; who stops the pen mid duty

Before the ink runs dry? At last, they halt,

The colors blur, the face and hands are sooty

His quill is stilled until the end, his vault.

Demand is held in his esteem, what's left

Is gone, and lest devoid a breath to breathe.

No strength to move the pen, and him our cleft.

White paper, ones and zeroes, hidden sheathe

On screen of white of scores, unseen its prey,

A breathless hulk of flesh, mortician's tube―

Alas, balm replaces blood to stop decay

Esprit does leave his pate and upward move,

     And hence no longer trapped within a heart,

     Exploring the cosmos without depart.