I feel the glory fade
and fall t’ th’ earth beneath.
It’s like I am dissolved,
transformed into black ash.
The light shines straight through me.
No shad’w nor temp’ral mark.
Before I leave harken;
I have still much to say.
The thorn and rose partnered,
but I no flower had.
Briers without produce
are meant for summer’s flames.
Yet what remains please till,
and so replen’sh the land.
Life’s better lived than not,
life’s lovelier spent than lost.
Tale Told 
“Life’s better lived than not,
life’s lovelier spent than lost.”
I love these lines Sheldon. You write such
wonderful poetry my friend. That was
an interesting use of apostrophes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. Sometimes I want the words to sound differently than they actually do, so I fudge the syllable count with a few apostrophes. No harm no foul, long as no auditors notice. 😉
LikeLike
It works ☺
LikeLiked by 1 person