Hush! Widow, you are dying now!
All you have achieved and discarded, will in Time
turn to dust that collects around the annals of long
forgotten history books, their lessons not heeded.
You are slipping away, the testament of the lengthy chains
that bind you to Humanity’s thought, even those that loved you
with a passion and romance filled spirit for the beige
you sometimes offered between the highs and lows
of what could be seen as a worryingly megalomaniac disposition.
However, like Lear, your time is ending soon
and you have to ask yourself whether Time will be kind in its rememberance,
for at least, for the few short remaining hours of your life.
Hush! Take your last few remaining breaths
and I will watch over you.
I will do my best to cleanse your greying skin
and mop the sweat and other’s tears of grief
from your burning, blistering brow,
and I might even put in a good word at your wake
for nothing should ever be truly be left out of a eulogy
to the departed.
Do you feel the warmth of a heavenly bliss?
The sound of a trumpet from a figure dressed in charmless white
and the handshake of your sisters, all mottled, decaying,
mouldering away into history’s crevice.
Or is there a sinister end for the tyranny you bought down upon your people?
The church bells ringing out in joy and wonder,
united by the sound of fireworks
and the sweet song of the future that is hoped for
in your successor.
We shall hail in Time
and remember the odd moment of perfection you offered,
like the glimpse of a well-rolled and beautifully decorated stocking
adorning the pale leg of an ugly prostitute,
one not content with having make us dirty our souls in public
and who caused us pain and misery.
Lie back, don’t fight the inevitable,
for you have not been welcome
and yet to the unelected successor we have to come,
a new born babe
in potential arms,
we pin our hopes, dreams and desires upon…
Knowing full well
this time next year we shall be cursing her last dying breaths.
Hush now Widow!
Ian D. Hall 2014.