And so the boom lowers
and light fades, desperation in cascades
falls like the lies that dripped
from lips cursed in foul remiss,
of a heart so dried of caring.
Too late regret,
so gone the time to appease the sins,
noted every last thing that soured a life,
that could have been worthwhile, yet
now in judgement the template struck.
Choose we may our paths,
our rights and wrongs at large,
self-centered ploys or gallant deeds homage,
and each the resolution quick
in Karma or a judgement day critique.
What we follow is our path,
however we see it, in aftermath,
and no blame can save us, peace restrain us,
just the play of consequence,
when that boom is lowered.
So, think not of shallow gains,
this life is a waiting game,
the sum of all we’ve done, comes back to shun
all our excuses, our placation undone,
for us to face ourselves.
Regret is no defence of worth,
our decisions were made
and shall we know their effects, their girth
as weighted outcomes of our undertaking,
we must stand to face our dark forsaking, of life.
On Judgement Day, no words to say.
Tony DeLorger © 2017