If success is defined by the successful,
Are us failures destined to a life of failure?

the tear has turned to torn
meant for fields of hearts broken
an eternity for those imperfect
inherently known but never spoken

a decree of modesty
it's said they fought til the last man
but who then told the story
of those who question, but never understand

surrounded by slumbers
a condition constantly denied
a lifetime sickened by grief
lord, believe that i've tried

Time goes on,
it's marching on,
forever a never-ending ending song,
a ballad of existence
& unwavering persistence
without resistance,
we're but an infantismal instance
on the infinite track of time,
insignificant to the grand cosmic line,
incomprehensible to the mind,
we're blind to its true nature,
it's secrets, it's behaviour,
& one day we may succeed in our endeavour to understand it better
& time will be under our command,
but I rue that day,
for I fear humanity's way,
will be death by time's hand.

There is nothing like stepping outside on a chill morning
& standing barefoot in the dewy grass
with my eyes closed against the rising sun.

The light piercing my eyelids fills my vision with a calming sunset red
that perfectly visualizes the feeling of the softly warm sun rays
blanketing my skin as the morning breeze paints my body
with a fine chilled brush.

I feel each patient beat of my heart
singing a song with the morning birds,
the flowing river & the dancing trees.

The sweet melody satiates me with serenity
& if only for a moment,
I am happy.

Lead us, Evolution, lead us
Up the future's endless stair;
Chop us, change us, **** us, **** us.
For stagnation is despair:
Groping, guessing, yet progressing,
Lead us nobody knows where.

Wrong or justice, joy or sorrow,
In the present what are they
while there's always jam-tomorrow,
While we tread the onward way?
Never knowing where we're going,
We can never go astray.

To whatever variation
Our posterity may turn
Hairy, squashy, or crustacean,
Bulbous-eyed or square of stern,
Tusked or toothless, mild or ruthless,
Towards that unknown god we yearn.

Ask not if it's god or devil,
Brethren, lest your words imply
Static norms of good and evil
(As in Plato) throned on high;
Such scholastic, inelastic,
Abstract yardsticks we deny.

Far too long have sages vainly
Glossed great Nature's simple text;
He who runs can read it plainly,
'Goodness = what comes next.'
By evolving, Life is solving
All the questions we perplexed.

Oh then! Value means survival-
Value. If our progeny
Spreads and spawns and licks each rival,
That will prove its deity
(Far from pleasant, by our present,
Standards, though it may well be).