Dismal Doom
Who bangs at the door,
And awakens
The sleeping conscience?
I walked a lot,
On the track of life,
I did spend time,
In vile and vain race,
Rebelling at every pace.
When I look behind,
I see the stones,
Coming on me,
Striking and wounding,
Blood staining my cloak.
I see the snakes hissing,
And the dogs howling,
Running after, chasing me,
These are my wrongs, my follies,
Done to me and others.
When I look ahead,
I see approaching swiftly,
The dismal doom,
Like a black engine.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Added by Poetry Lover
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