THE OLD ARE GOING : SONNET 65

The Old Are Going

Sonnet 65

The old are going their life at finish line,

No musing if they made it to the Stand

Or lagg'd behind those others who did shine

In limelight of their unique feats and brand.

Their shriveled face, hollowed eyes, fallen teeth

Let them not pull out their nerves either way --

No curse, no oath, no laughter underneath

Their tattered lips or grief on deadened eye.

As final inks of tawniness fast fleeing

Their hugely claimed life of immortality,

They pray to get rid of dishonour of dying

And shut them out of the world of mortality:

They're going; let them go wreath on for their soul.

Let the truth of life define us and our goal.

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