Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2014
To cast away them old anxieties
I stringently hold my course
Turning away from mystic deities
I only focus on the source

The spirit forms to fit
A reality that refuses to bend
And questions of our existence
Are blown by perpetual winds

Who can really say beyond a doubt
If we’re temporal or we’re permanent
No scientific experiment
Could ever positively determine it

And as we strive to understand
Just why the hell we’re here
We’re distracted by the cosmos
And the music of the spheres
I think I re PO
Traveler
Written by
Traveler  61/M/Traverse City Mi.
(61/M/Traverse City Mi.)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems