Just as the howling wind commenced,
Ran forth with shoulders pushed against
The pressures of unnumbered hours
That vie to steal the sense of our
Allotted time upon this earth.
As lives are thrusted towards the grave,
Whence we came squalling from our birth,
Severely tested ’bout our worth,
Exchanging freely pain and mirth,
Ensconced within close cloistered cave,
Young children play in blameless bliss,
So sheltered from such world as this.
They play at being bold and brave,
Secure in seeking love they crave,
Too young to quite foresee the dearth
Of knowledge of impending death.
If they did, they’d surely cower
From fate that cannot be defensed.
With sin’s decree of death dispensed,
Share the fate of wilting flower.
We all share the same fate. We protect our children from that knowledge as long as we can. Eventually they experience it around them.
It has a complex rhyme scheme of: