another name on the web
Bluelighter
Well, here I am!
A soul enslaved by gravity,
Of my perceived reality.
I reach this point of my life,
With lets just say –
A question mark?
I have a query to make,
Regarding everyday debate.
What is the point of this poem,
Hence, where the journey is really going?
Are we the masters of our fate?
Or, are we a paradox of chance?
So many ways to look at life,
So many ways to feel its pulse.
We twist and turn in endless search,
For a solution to this curse.
A reason why such drastic word,
Is for confusion it evolves –
Amongst the nations of this world.
It may be interesting to note,
The similarity involved,
In each and every set of rules –
However different the views.
No matter how extreme the laws,
Whichever way the parties go
Just like a colony of ants,
We follow senselessly….., somewhere.
Like bats at noon, we navigate
Via see-thru walls,
Of man made maze.
We have unlimited detours,
Along our custom tailored routes…
Sending us deeper, into the woods.
We wearily trode through present times,
With little rules passed on to us,
That universally apply –
To the phenonamen called life.
Yet, even less the road map,
We are still fed, on constant crap.
As to what awaits ahead,
And which road, must we take.
<>
Hence, I stop this poem now
Least I spill, more poison out…
[This message has been edited by another name on the web (edited 17 November 2000).]
A soul enslaved by gravity,
Of my perceived reality.
I reach this point of my life,
With lets just say –
A question mark?
I have a query to make,
Regarding everyday debate.
What is the point of this poem,
Hence, where the journey is really going?
Are we the masters of our fate?
Or, are we a paradox of chance?
So many ways to look at life,
So many ways to feel its pulse.
We twist and turn in endless search,
For a solution to this curse.
A reason why such drastic word,
Is for confusion it evolves –
Amongst the nations of this world.
It may be interesting to note,
The similarity involved,
In each and every set of rules –
However different the views.
No matter how extreme the laws,
Whichever way the parties go
Just like a colony of ants,
We follow senselessly….., somewhere.
Like bats at noon, we navigate
Via see-thru walls,
Of man made maze.
We have unlimited detours,
Along our custom tailored routes…
Sending us deeper, into the woods.
We wearily trode through present times,
With little rules passed on to us,
That universally apply –
To the phenonamen called life.
Yet, even less the road map,
We are still fed, on constant crap.
As to what awaits ahead,
And which road, must we take.
<>
Hence, I stop this poem now
Least I spill, more poison out…
[This message has been edited by another name on the web (edited 17 November 2000).]
