In Thought’s quiet Room, I wonder —
Will my leaving, make the world fonder?
In Law’s halls, where truths are bandied,
Lurks a query, deep, stranded.
In the Night’s still frame, where Shadows dance,
I’m lost — in a spectral trance.
Portraits of Souls, once alive and dear,
Now but whispers — that I hear.
Each tells a tale, in frozen hue,
A silent ode — to the life they knew.
Do they portend of the Unknown,
Or speak of seeds we’ve sown?
In Life’s grand Play, our parts we cast,
Leaving echoes — long and vast.
Yet, in this quiet gallery’s gaze,
A question burns — through the haze.
In each face, my own I see,
Echoing back — what might be.
Heavy hangs the Question — dire,
Will my end quench or stoke the fire?
Through morbid fascination’s lens,
Seeking answers — and amends.
In Death’s face, Life’s tale is spun,
A story of the Many — and the One.
Still, I gaze — at the forever still,
Pondering if my absence will,
In Thought’s quiet Room, I wonder, late —
Will my leaving, alter fate?
Charles Ho Wang Mak is a Lecturer in Law at the Robert Gordon University. He lives in Scotland, where he starts to admire poetry.