Painful eternity.
We’re all just specks of dust on a floating rock,
Stuck in the reclusion of - the angry,
the acrimonious and the awful.
Thousands of philosophies,
Yet the cynic darkness is the epiphany of our times.
Existential dread?
Or this apocalyptic pacific?
Undisturbed death?
Or the life we vividly created?
What did God intend?
To make us good or evil?
A livelihood, no matter how it sustains,
Will always be labour.
Gently it goes,
In the words, the hours and the visions.
Above all is the soul,
The one that floats weightless in the dying rivers.
Does humanity make you question?
Does humanity make you think?
Where are all the answers;
in oracles, visions or myths?
The end is near,
the reality suffocating.
The answers will remain buried
By god’s omniscience or divine foreknowledge,
How long will free will last this intervention?
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Quick Reads
PoetryA five-course written meal of poems, short stories, conflicting thoughts, unseen letters and AU imagines. Filled with fluttering heart moments, forgotten memories of nostalgia, an abyss of sadness, immersive happiness and treasured words. ~~ Sugges...
