Thursday, October 10, 2013

Poem a Day 10

(This one started as part of the capital vices series, but just went the wrong way.)

The Folly of Despair

The universe will end, and I will end,
and you will end, and nothing come of all;
against the coming loss no tricks defend,
no strategies. So small, so small,
our works are all as nothing and will fall,
and meaningless in darkness all will lie;
the world has but one end: that is to die.

'The race will come to end, as will my part,
and yours as well, and afterward we leave,
and this will not be changed by pounding heart,
and not be budged by all I can achieve;
no matter what, no action will relieve
from having finite time in which to win,
so I will just not try, nor yet begin.'

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