The Skeptic’s Faith

Behold the door which has, for a thousand years,
been neglected
and the tomb beyond in which its inhabitants
have been protected;

hearken well, for naught but silence
disturbs this forgotten cell
and take heed of the warning
their esoteric names foretell.

Upon the face of each sarcophagus appears
a once honored name;
each in their own time and in their own way
had earn their acclaim

but all such honors, however significant,
fade into infinite obscurity
as easily as their mortal harbingers
bring them into notoriety.

The gorgon Medusa, who mortifies the body
with a stare,
animates life and annihilates it too
with the selfsame snare,

for it is fear that excites volition
in the performance of every task
and fear that freezes the enlivened face
into Death’s frightful mask.

Even now the cracks in the walls of the vault
begin to spread
and threaten what little glory is left
to the dejected dead

yet even merciless Time,
which neglects and forgets all things,
cannot negate a moment of happiness
and the peace it brings.


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