Of Comfort Let No Man Speak Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Time’s glove destroys love's equipoise, from Peter steals, pays Paul,
whatever ploy's employed, enjoyed, strength peters, keels, seals pall.
Who led, ahead, too soon instead's enshrouded, crown abdicated,
beyond life's shore lies comfort's core, dismissed, missed, place vacated.
Trees, starting small, rise tall, then fall, fulfilling destiny,
to reach light fight till soul's night flight: life, love, forgot, rot see.