Time isn't concerned
I wasn't with it at any moment
to millions it had to attend
unaware I wasn't present

I make no profound statement
for that I wasn't born:
I write when moved by any sentiment
from my heart's feelings such is drawn

The will is always
weaker than the wish
it's beyond dispute
that the latter has a more forceful reach

The heart is alway somewhere
it gets too used to the here
suspended in wishes and years
it's the depositary of tears

even love does so often waver
( can it abide forever?)
Such pain does the heart suffer
where, oh where, is the deliverer?

This is the land
of us the aged:
you the younger
will not understand-
the mist of life
hovers heavily over
we live alienated
in a lacuna-

here is not your land
this you'll understand:
the years before us
were mere glimpses
wool cast over our eyes
our experiences
merely agonised :
for such we were born

there aren't answers here
only doubts and questions
though not Sisyphus
we were almost broken
life was not kind
nor lenient

here you don't belong:
live and love
as much
and as joyful
as you can:
the chime of life
grows louder
day by day
and before long
your days
of splendour
will be gone.

Knowing little
  doesn't impede:
  know how to intuit

knowing too much
tends to confuse
and mislead

that which is too full
leaves no extra room to keep

Seek
you will not find

ask
there'll be no reply

knock
the door will not open

reason
you'll be imprisoned

love
you'll be disappointed

hope
you'll regret

remember
you'll feel the pain

think
you'll not understand

speak
the language will be incomplete

travel
you'll not learn

join the club
more lonely you'll become

associate
you'll meet people who are absurd

contribute
people will not appreciate

smile
others might not like


idealise
you'll agonise

live
you'll feel the grief

this believe:
nothing has any meaning