Melancholy-life's driving dirge:
Marching, aimless from dawn to dusk;
Deifying us with the dust;
Damned in one useless merge.
Yet we forget all in between, sweet
Young memories, droned out by the beat.
This never-ending song of life,
From a to c mixed in with screams
Dare we ever escape the strife,
Taunts us to better our scene.
When every option comes to fail
Yet yearned and fought for something more,
Is life really all 'bout the sale?
By God I pray there's something more.
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Author:
Spencer Wilhelm (
Offline) - Published: April 6th, 2025 01:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
Offline)
Comments2
I hope we can get back to a world where life for all means more than a deal, enjoyed the read
Thanks
You are very welcome
Layers of metaphor like falling dust bury this poem in meaning hidden. When all seems meaningless we all pray that there is something more. Enigmatic it pleads to be reread over and over.
Means a lot, I've recently been inspired to write more as I've been reading a bunch more poetry, both normal and epic. It's far from perfect, many kinks I'm unsure how to wrinkle out, but only time will tell I guess. Thanks so much!
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