Escape Second Death: A Poem

This poem is published in the poetry anthology, Its Not Easy by Poets’ Choice. This is my first published work.





Six feet under sixteen tall lilies, Man considers eternity.
Eternity’s ears hear no more the lamentations from Man’s regrets.

Regrets forgotten even by sixteen green stems, but Time—the grave gardener.

The grave gardener mows not, plows not, and sows not; He litanies.
He litanies as earth buries her one truth: Man wastes with worms.


Worms tunnel the clay and mud and brains and veins of Man’s forgotten pains.
Pains the gardener annals away, to be read on heaven’s judgement day.
Judgement day, asterisk of eternity, hour saved to open graves.
Graves untilled will break open—Man soars above lilies; He’s heaven’s chosen.

—W. Alexander

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3 thoughts

  1. As you know, I’m not a poet by any means… but I love the flow and love how it comes full circle with the lilies. My absolute favorite line is: “Worms tunnel the clay and mud and brains and veins of my forgotten pains.” I think it’s great!

    Liked by 1 person

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