Catenatus: De Existentia, Vitae et Mortem

Author’s Note: I wrote this poem quite a while ago, probably two or so years back, perhaps much earlier. As a result, the style is a bit loose. It is a series of haikus (or more properly senryus – see the distinction here) woven into a sustained semi-narrative poem; the title hints at this “concatenation” or chaining of ostensibly individual poems into one whole and also highlights the poem’s themes.

The prince’s daughter arose
Looking o’er the bay
Where light of day swiftly run –

Nightingale, sing of sorrow
Of life rushing by
Sing of night ‘fore day is over

Nightingale, swift of wing
Come, tell of yonder –
What lies over the mountains?

Life hurries by – not a word
Of care as it goes
Prince or pauper – all are one

The same stab of treachery
And soon all are gone
This she saw and then she wept

So, Nightingale, poet of pain
Come quell misery –
With yet more of misery

As we reckon fading years
As life rushes by
And in the end, Nightingale

We are truly naught but time
Every moment –
We bleed more of ourselves –

To the tides of emptiness
And soon no more
Trifle – with the tides we came

Trifle – with the tides we go
Sons of transient Dust
This she saw, and then she wept

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