A budding writer's collection

Drowning octopus

Things aplenty, eight limbs inadequate,

Grabbing on to a plank that's destined to drown

Read and grab the knowledge lest I die intellectually inadequate,

Offer services to everyone who seeks lest I be labelled unreliable,

Hold onto that friendship that's destined to break,

The vision of the ruins infuse me with blues.

Is this life long enough to acquire all knowledge?

Is this life long enough to get drunk on the love of my beloveds?

Will this life run long enough to see myself successful in my chosen path?

Will this life be long enough to see humankind changing for the better?

Where is the guidebook that lays down the steps and fills in the blanks?

Why is the flickering lamp in this hedge maze never replaced?

What is the prize that the wisest one receives?

What are we striving for, clouded by illusions of a better place?

I spend my time reading books,

Books of love, war, and promise of a new era

But will I be able to read the last book ever written before the curtain closes,

The apocalypse reigning over this pathetic civilization?

What if the last person to perish records it, only for the pages to suffer from the same fate?

In the end, perhaps it's not the answers I seek, but the questions that keep me afloat.