dance of the decades

glide across the nebulae.
swim, with grace, on a methane sea.
you can become all you would dare to be
if you join in the dance of the decades.
the eyes of the poet, in sorrow, once shone...
but they have grown hollow, and all alone
he ponders on planets that crumble and groan
when he joins in the dance of the decades.
the naked jesters sing their tune
to the priests who dwell in granite rune,
crying aloud, "Death comes too soon
if you join in the dance of the decades.".
the final soul has now been sold
for the tiniest sack of pyrite gold.
but my cocoon shall never grow cold.
I have joined in the dance of the decades.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.