You wake up
And churn out your routinely manufactured day,
Till the obliviousness washes over you
Till you can barely breathe
And you pant, and you heave
And you sputter out an exclamation of remorse
In being born
In an era with no answers and fashioned morals.
To be nailed down to the earth, while being a child of the universe.
One which taunts you with its domineering presence
In every direction
Around every nook.
Reminding you of your insignificance.
Of your nature, so fleeting.
A flung out piece of excrement
Floating around the abyss.
A taunt.
Your life is a taunt.
And the great big being laughs his great big laugh.
The shudder of his belly causes civilizations to fall
And children to be born
To a small little wail
Which wades across the cosmic fabric
As an impending omen of inevitable suffering.
Flee, you rotting carcasses
Separated from the inevitable only by mother time.
Flee
Till your spirit tapers into nothingness
And points towards nothingness.