Poems

Poem 1 - What Comes Next?

What is life if not just a carrier to the never-ending eternity that follows?

What happens next, our bodies left like gutted tree hollows.

Our soul is said to move on, but how would we know?

Is there really something out there, greater than us? Nobody knows.

You can almost sense the next life, its scent on the tip of your nose,

But you get pulled under, drown, if you get too close.

One step too deep, too far from the shallows,

No one to save you now, submerged in your sorrows.

I weep in the empty goodbyes and the hope for better tomorrows.

I say my prayers and I light my candles, but for what I ask.

Is it that I hope that the mistakes I've made already won't haunt my future?

Is it that there really will be a light at the end of the tunnel, that it won't just be torture?

Or do I hope that all my mistakes will be lesser than the man before,

That the judge of my soul will see how hard I have fought my own war?

Those who pray for something higher, something more,

Might find themselves unlocking and locking the same door.

They don't see how far they've come, or how close the next door may be so they reach.

They preach.

They say there has to be something out there, so they start their speech.

They begin it all with a rhetorical question,

In hope that afterwards, their view might freshen.

That some form of being would have shown them the way as they spread their own words of sorrow,

And as they keep trying to look too far, past tomorrow.

They only find words, as empty as tree hollows.

My apologies to those who keep hoping,

I don't mean to make you suffer while you're already, only barely just coping.

But don't waste a life that's yet to live,

On details that fall right after it.

But I'll let you ponder on the question, what comes next?

Word Count: 310