Poetry Collection Vol.1: Ex Nihilo

Faith

Contemplating of a celestial arbiter over all we know.

By extension, engineer of its seething sordid woe.

What supposed divine decision sought this so?

World in midst of chaos of torrential flows.

Truest wisdom spawned such droll?

At odds, like a helix is twisted, torn is my soul.

Existence seems as bitter a gift as tarnished gold.

The body, if a temple as its supposed,

Then unruly are soul's quarters loaned,

But just have faith, this I'm so often told.

However, with this I'm never content

And sleep dissents when said thoughts descend.

However, im well aware even in these scrutinous remarks;

As I ponder like Prometheus deep in thought,

All is seldom as it seems to us, of course.

But time marches on its arc and frequent prevails these many thoughts.

As the sky dons its dark sequin veil of glittering stars:

Is there an afterlife to which we disembark?

Heaven, hell, or perhaps even neither

As we duely disappear into the ether.

By Nicholas Moore