Sentinel Poetry: Expression Warehouse

Valley Of Shadows

The flowers adored,
they fade
The heart loved withers,
Man grows old and dies, as
a society wails over her beau
All of nature's great,
of esteem bowed out.

The prime of a generation, floats away
A world lies beneath,
below the sixth mark-too deep.
In as much, there
untapped sources lay,
in one true bliss,
down in the sepulcher of ages.

The thought of eternity,
It fills with gray hairs, and
In the very promise of our faculties.
But of this time writes,
Too little on tiny brows of future's eyes, yet
In the sum of all sums,
eternity they lay to rest.

For in us all,
eternity is soon affirmed.
Of earth we became,
Of dust grains were we made putty,
That if our deed be done,
In our esteem, little inglorious
To mother earth we return,
until the final re-awakening.

In the least,
God's finger calls -touching, to end
The short parenthesis in a long period
Through the trench of little unknown,
Below the very production of time,
Down the valley of shadows.

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