To The End Of The World

Matthias Pantaleon

Saturday 18 April 2020

Twenty seven years ago I was a child

Perhaps I was five, or maybe lesser

And trotting than I should

Being the son of my father was a huge privilege

Long I stood on his wooden chair

Watching strolling clouds up their alley

But for raging storm they brace selves in sheer charm

Though, darker now, still, they stroll

To the end of the world, merging with the earth

I became part of the dark sky

Perplexed, and pondering

Just how much rain droplets

Is too much for their dainty grip

Though I had no real answer

One thing was certain, in no certain way

Never to give up till the end comes

Then I climb down, but, never was my head

Upon the sacred altar of this resolution

I sacrificed youth to nourish soul

And someday, we too will come to the

End of the world; merging with the earth

Thus went the strolling cloud

And our fathers too, the crafted

The legend and the fair minded

I will bake thee but this one song

Hope it find its way home to thee

Soft feel to tend thy knitting curls

No night shall beguiled thee or fair

On bended knees shall mercy beckon

We are the kindred spirits, we carry

With us, the history of our own kind

To the end of the world

Where we'll merge with the earth

And the sand of time - dust to dust