Striving Towards Nothing
Why this passion or despair?
Why hangs anguish in the air?
This endless striving toward the end
Suggests that ruin does impend.
Restless monsters sigh and speak
As I awake while others sleep,
Besieged by phantoms from a dream
And haunted by their shriek and scream.
I stand amid a tempests cry
Its rage and wind its last goodbye.
Wishing me with contrite mutters:
Beware the words and acts of others.
These dreamers lie dispassionate.
Is disregard an accident?
I shake their hollow shells awake,
But alas this is their chosen fate.
Why is life composed of loss?
And why must sorrow be its cost?
When will someone try to hear
The words that fall upon deaf ears?
Is this the face that I once knew?
I cannot recall its vacant view.
The recesses of my sunken skin
Have turned me into one of them.
Heaven’s not where God resides,
Nor are angels honest guides.
Hell is not the Devil’s place;
He’s in this land of rot and waste.
3 comments
This is really good.
IMHO, it would be better without the final stanza (the heaven/hell stuff), but that’s my only criticism.
Nice one there, reminds of a dear friend of mine I haven’t seen in long. I like the last stanza. The last line really emphasises your message.
My favorite stanza is the fifth. Very well executed, Stendarr’s, I like it. 🙂