A Tale of Misery
What purpose hath man if it all comes to this,
a tale of misery that ends in abyss?
For naught does the wise seek,
day brings day and lesser his heart beats.
Sought did I, all paths of men.
Alas they are spent, and hearts broken.
For land is tossed only to bring winter winds.
Man’s place of ending is where he begins.
Sweat seeps forth only to be transformed to tears
Man’s joys are soon vanquished by the shadow of fear.
Yet ever we search; mankind’s cruel game,
generations return from whence the former came.
The path is far too beaten paved by the steps of tens.
Questioning are their minds and ever the trail bends.
Something! There must be something more!
But with every escape, comes another door.
On and on the endless chase,
the body of dust is pushed in haste.
To sit, relax, and to finally die must
yet the hunger, the thirst, forever tortures us.
If man is as beast a conclusion must be made,
that man's endless search indeed ends in the grave.
Yet, if I find that there exists the Ultimate good,
forever man’s journey will remain to me understood.