Only The Dead Are Perfect

 

Only the dead are perfect. We can see

   Beyond their end, and map the straightest trail

They could have taken to the victory

   Of all their dreams.  We never let them fail.

The land of Might-Have-Been has many stories,

   But none are tragedies.  We end them all

With happiness, with perfect love, with glories—

   Up comes the winner; down goes the wall.

It is the country where Would Have is king—

   Two words that rule the dead like Should and Must

Command obedience from everything

   That enters life as flesh and leaves as dust:

      The perfect dead, whom we still guide through strife

      To victories they never won in life.

 

Copyright 2014 Matthew J Wells