GLOOM OF DOOM

On a day when no danger looms

Safe the final anathema of doom.

A day when death o’er us cast

Its rumpus with darkness vast.

When all that is left is sorrow

Of gnashing of teeth and furore.

When we turned with fret ne’er thought

Paying debt of things ne’er bought.

Alas! This premonition so tense.

Hailing with wail whence

All hope lost in shadow of twilight;

Flickering under the darkness of the night.

Morose for lost hue of youthful days

When lust summons us on covetous way.

Revelling in the gloom of excess beer,

Haplessly now its burden we’ll docilely bear.

On a day we shall bid us whither

We shall rebel to march thither.

For lust made us a promise of glory,

Why then shall we be recompense with gory?