02 February 2018

#2 - Never write your own epitaph

After Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley

I travelled far and met a girl who said
she’d seen a ruined statue in the sand.
Two broken legs, a disembodied head,
the avatar of some abandoned land.

The face a mask of cruelty and distain,
the wrinkled lip and disaffected frown,
all well reflected how he chose to reign –
a total bastard known the world around.

And on his plaque, the words were written thus:
My name is Ozzy; I’ve achieved it all!
Check out my awesome castle and the rest
but not one brick survives – no city walls –

just ravaged marble, shattered and alone,
picked clean and bleached like long-forgotten bones.



No comments:

Post a Comment