in retrospect, it may appear as if

Written from the point of view of Keats, a poet who died at a young age. Also, author of "Ode on a Grecian Urn", which talks of timelessness, mortality and art - or finding immortality in art.

in retrospect, it may appear as if

i knew that early would i cease to be

and thoughts, yet ripe, would fall and rot away

if left until my palsied years. i spoke

of death as does a priest of God, but does

this mean that God the priest would meet? and now,

my fears fullfilled, as all’s will be, it’s said

i knew my fate, my early end, and yet

i say, i still know not of fall in spring.

when faced with life preserved within an urn,

i knew that those before, who’d looked upon

its curve, were since forgot �" and so my end

would be, unless i sliced away the frayed

and tangled ropes of immortality.

so now you look upon frayed ends and see

intent appear before your eyes, when not

a sign of death did i, but once, perceive.