Immortalized

Posted by Brad Osborne on December 20, 2020 · 9 Comments 

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The hooded specter of death has no call

For immortality is found in the black stains

Scrawled upon a future where nothing dies

A repost to all that ever was in lampblack

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The feather flies its fleeting in dance above

And nails bear the weight of wisdom writ

Legacy forbade the want for its banishing

And the echoes it speaks, ring in ears yet unborn

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The weathered and tattered years lie bound

A life that ne’er sees a final resting place

A million moons may smile and beam

Yet still there be breath to spill out the words

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We laugh in the face of death, we own forever

For we have been written down, long penned

Language graced with our very souls immortal

Press our permanence into the world beyond

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Filed under Poetry · Tagged with death, forever, future, generations, immortal, immortality, ink, life, permanence, poem, Poetry, strict form poetry, words, writers, writing