O’ beauty and of death, when do the drumbeats rest for those blessed?
When do the drumbeats rest for those who transgressed?
When do the drumbeats rest for the obsessed?
O’ beauty and of death, the sky is thy paper, and the sea is thy ink.
Remember beauty, and the moon shall shed light on tomorrow’s dreams.
And the sun shall lure the flowers to the arch of the heavens.
O’ beauty, what comes from the glow of roses in thy garden?
Red and rich like the blood of figs and thy sweet wine.
The sun and moon, thy constant watchmen, exalting sweetness.
O’ fortunes’ spinning wheels of time, like a full moon waning in the cadence of time.
I wonder of thine joyful life, like wine, and the passing of time.
Taste the bread of O’ beauty, less dread of death, put thou to the test of time.
All Rights Reserved, Of Beauty and Death © Richard Anthony Peña 2017