Aug 2012
An empty shell
That is what we are.
Soulless, chaotic and scratchy,
An end without a start.
Impossible to prove this so,
Impossible to prove otherwise,
Impossible to reap this sow,
Impossible to see through the eyes.
At an impasse of life,
A conundrum of creation,
At an instance of hopes,
Realisation jubilation.
That is what we are.
Soulless, chaotic and scratchy,
An end without a start.
Impossible to prove this so,
Impossible to prove otherwise,
Impossible to reap this sow,
Impossible to see through the eyes.
At an impasse of life,
A conundrum of creation,
At an instance of hopes,
Realisation jubilation.
I've written this poem to communicate my personal views in an eloquent way, rather than the heated debates I tend to find myself in. Thank you for reading :)
