Hamlet was wrong in his famous inquiry,
"to be or not to be,"
for being is only the precursor to
feeling.
"To feel, or not to feel",
that is the true question.
Is it better to submit to the cacophony,
the constant white noise that is
monotony,
just so in a rare moment,
the monotony will crescendo into
dynamic bliss?
Or, is it better to quiet your soul?
To burst the internal ear,
and lose both cruel agony and
rapturous joy.
To pass this short journey with
no injury,
to never be stifled by the everlasting
repetition-
would it not be worth the brief,
incandescent moments of beauty?
If but we could separate the two!
If but we could feel the sweetness of one,
lacking the sting of the other;
but no,
like the seasons, every autumn's glory
must give way to winter's wroth.
We must choose.
Is the reward worthy
of the sacrifices to be made?