Bane

Bane

A Poem by Cat
"

Time: the bane of our existence. Form: the Irish Droignech.

"
Now resonates the Reaper’s reckoning.
Swinging in silence, there the pendulum oscillates.
Destructor who liquidates life stands beckoning
as the seconding clock crashes, and time culminates.

© 2012 Cat


Author's Note

Cat
Droignech: An Irish form in quatrains; 8 to 13 syllables, with each line ending in a trisyllabic word. The stanzas are rhymed abab, with cross-rhymes, alliteration in each line, and ending with a couplet. The poem ends with the same syllable, word, or line with which it begins.

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Compartment 114
Compartment 114
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Added on May 4, 2012
Last Updated on May 4, 2012
Tags: bane, time, inevitable, clock, destruction, death, irish form, irish, ireland, droignech

Author

Cat
Cat

Madison, MS



About
I'm a feminist southern belle Classicist video gamer, thank you very much. more..

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