Equilibrium Ad Infinitum

There are few courtiers

To be found in The Necropolis.

They have little reason to attend,

They have nothing to gain.

The dead hold Court for maggots alone.

Their throne is stone cold,

As is the case of the corpse.

No one is of use once dead,

No one knows this better,

Than those absent courtiers.

Those flat liners,

Who are now but

Life’s fallible favourites.

Who know for certain,

That here lies true equality.

It is found among these horizontals.

Having been imposed by death,

It has finally been achieved.

Now all are equal

In the stillness of the grave.

(c) 2018 Christopher Thompson

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