and everyone knows their part by heart,
and you know what you'll do though you don't know how.
And you can't react and you can't turn back,
you've gone too far for you to change tracks,
and you gotta keep going right through to the final bow.
Well, David was a youth and then grew old,
covered in blankets and he shivers with cold,
but he keeps getting encores from the madding crowd.
And Elijah exits left off the world too tame,
returning to the fire from which he came.
He leaves his mantle and makes the storm his shroud.
And Agag can see that the die is cast,
shrugs and says that death's pain has passed,
stands there watching as the prophet strikes him down.
And Saul, finally done with making amends
tries to act surprised but he always knew how it ends,
and someone comes by to take the fallen crown.
And they prop Ahab up against the flood
and all the while runs the blood,
and he stands repeating I'm sorry, but I can't go now.
And Jezebel took what she could get,
says I may be damned, but I'm not dead yet,
And puts on her face to take that final bow.
And the curtain will fall on a silhouette
and the crowds will clap and then forget,
and you've gotta go on, though you don't know how
until the curtain falls on that final bow.
3 comments:
[applauds]
Very well-written.
I'm not sure the rythm was right for the imagery, but the imagery was very powerful. Nicely done.
Thanks, Scraps!
Miri- I know that the rhythm is a bit odd, but here's the thing: certain poems, for reasons that undoubtedly make sense in their little heads, force me to write them as song lyrics rather than simple poems. Silly poems, I tell them, you know that you will never become songs, given my unmusicalness and whatnot. But do they listen? And then there you are.
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