The Starting Point – a cywydd deuair fyrion

What matters most,
do you suppose,
at living’s end
when these doors close:

the riches cached,
the virgins wooed,
the years achieved,
the sins eschewed?

Or is it all
a pointless ruse,
that defeats all –
no win or lose,

a moment’s span
that simply goes,
regardless of
the path you chose,

into the mist
where none can see:
the starting of
eternity?

10 DEC 2012

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| December 10th, 2012 | Posted in Poems |

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