Whence comes the harm that life us doth cause?
The hate and the pain, 'til death snaps its jaws
And with not a bang, but a pitiful spark
The flame that is life is snuffed out; and hark!
Pay attention, yes you - with the hopeless, dull gaze
Your fear is that life has no meaning; a maze
Of torturous turns, of frightening tests
Of malevolent varlets and pointless requests.
In death, may we find the blissful release?
Yet, p'raps, find in death, that pain doth not cease.
Yet they shalt all tell us that life be worth living
Despite the earth's nature: cruel, unforgiving.
The evil on earth doth cause us much pain
While we shall dwell, we stand nothing to gain.
Thou doth convince me i am the exception
And thou art so trained in the art of deception.
YOU ARE READING
Fly Me To The Moon
PoesiaA collection of poems that don't fit into my other book. Less depressing than my other one, I guess, but dark in some ways.
