Oh, the light has faded through the day,
men’s life now not but a child’s play.
All too easy their lives have become,
born to die, waiting for death to come.
If this was how man should live,
then there is no reason why we treat life as a gift to give.
The races of men failing away,
like the stars eternally in decay.
If at all one looks at the wonders of men’s mind,
or sees such men’s stride,
but should he see the wars we raged,
in which we fought to keep our minds caged,
then one would say:
The world should be a better place,
for in this world a mortal once said:
“If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”
Originally published on Paradise Lost.