Perfected in age and practiced in youth,
There is no greater venom than the truth,
To know by the burning light in your eyes,
We are but sad string-less marionettes,
Staggering as much as this old world lets,
Without a purpose and without a dream,
Just an untruth, a fiction and a scream.
To realize that this life is flawed,
To search without finding a loving God.
To discover the world is just a windswept desert.
Is a never-ending torture of hurt.
To love your days and watch them blow away.
It is no wonder most don’t wish to stay.
To be told it’s the Devil or the Lamb,
Is to know that life is a complete sham.
The truth can be too much for some to bear,
As terrifying as gasping for air,
It can often be a poison flower,
Devoid of verity and tasting sour,
Reality has a deadly fragrance.
Able to enslave us all in a trance,
Until finally we are put to sleep,
Unable to feel unable to weep.
-
Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: March 29th, 2024 00:11
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Alan R, Koshish.
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Comments2
There's a chance that you might be at least partially right there........
Strong words David, all we can do is try to enjoy each moment we are here.
Andy
Exactly.We all have to try.thanks for commenting
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