A very rare event – a new poem…

Albeit a rather short …

I’m not entirely happy with this, as writing poetry, for me, is akin to the labour of a mouse giving birth to a whale. Still, for better or worse, and I concede its bleakness, this is as good as I can do right now.

Think of it as a sequel to Intimations of mortality…


Brink of Mortality…


Never thought that it would end like this

To stand alone, against the dark

And feel, no more, a soft, sweet, kiss.


I would give it my best effort though

For love always deserves it

But try my hardest though I might

I’ll end my time alone.


It may not be allowed for me

To hold what love could give me

For some of us are cursed by fate

To make it on our own.