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Annatman Oct 2022
Comforting possiblity
That, still, you suddenly recall
The ultimate futility
Of doing anything at all
The best possible outcome
neth jones Sep 2022
sap life's might                                                                                           ­      
sweet meat played against its decay
fertile pocket of the grimace death                                                        
                                         meat sweet pocket baby of pacing matey death
pant my way into the afterlife                                                        ­
                                   punt one betraying thought after-naught
nutritious carriages rattling a plenish                                  
                 gatling across the brains warlord terrain
                raided til pointless                                                        ­  
by the desert fetching in on all sides
a verse far removed from its misplace in a longer work

MARK
Vikram sikki May 2022
To wake up and run
Should be a real fun
But NO , its not
Feels like stifling by a knot

Short of breath in my mind
Even before the start of grind
We sleep, that's fine
But to rise is asinine

The weight of my slumber
When I drag encumbered
Against all reasons
Be what may the season
My soul shouts " Treason"
For my wilted rhythm

Why why why
My heart starts to cry
I wake up for what
And sleep to naught
This universal cycle of routine
Is a time tested guillotine

My hunt is on for the reason
Till then I ll punish self for the treason
By waking after sleep
And running daily and weep!!!
Life goes on for what
Adriana Makenna Mar 2022
There are no real maps
There are none that are true
You lay the sphere of our bellies down flat
And you face a conundrum of view

So why do we learn they are certain
And why don’t we follow or nose
And how did the sailors of ancient
Find their ways to and back home

Mind map, Google maps, star map
Infinite things trapped in lines
Like drawing a circle round an ant
A taunt from wasted time
Ylzm Apr 2021
Death begins the day the newborn cries
Not its choice, grew up believing
Clinging to futility on death's bed
As if another life brings the dead to life

Affirmed as gods, life stroked, seduced
Painful dissonance yet believing
Chance is king but Will supreme
Striving to the death for one more chance

Failures chastised, pride conceals, boastfully
Offering ashes, gods obliged, believing
Truly only Money matters, Chance *******
Life ransomed too, not today, surely tomorrow

Love or transactional ***, legal or not
Life's answer or preachers' lies believing
Perhaps only masturbatory self love is true
Justified indulgence entirely in one's own hands

Meaninglessness, life’s honest and brave end
Else denial and delusion, make believing
This moment till death has despair to work
Alas many flail cowardly, ironic futility grasping

Will strong, flesh betrays, in hypocrisy
Peter wept, shamelessness hardens believing
Death discerns not its own stench
Life's fragrance repulsive and offends

Life imposed freely from the beginning
Conned and chose to pay for believing
A shadow of what will be but tempted to be
And the Accuser justified and God ******
Sarah Lane Jan 2021
Long ago, I closed my eyes with the warm sun on my face
And I dreamed of finding more of myself beyond this place
So I set out on a journey that would take most of my life
I searched every path but fumbled back when met with strife
Each turn and new horizon just a mirage of hope that faded
The day brought less resolve; the nights despair invaded
My foolishness deluded me and priceless years it stole
Until I was left with nothing in a wasteland of my soul
Who am I beyond these mazes? I thought I could be more.
Now standing here, I see tracks of the lives that went before.
We are all the same; life ends with a breath just as it starts
So I closed my eyes and understood... I am no more beyond my heart
Pride and greed along with a myriad of futile pursuits lead us away from the simple yet solid core of who we are. These cheap things and false ideas distract us from what is truly meaningful and keep us from experiencing happiness, contentment, and peace.
Manx Jan 2021
when i had no age
when i was a light ray through the window
i was born
pulled from a prismatic prison
all thanks to a vision
they had
of a son

now, i am here
and what is here?
save for abject misery

is it right to subject nothing to something
to pluck out stars, from the sky?
more of us are birthed everyday
and more of us see themselves buried
and the world keeps spinning
and it would if we decide to all die
or if we decide to live
the former and latter have no affect

so why are we here?
***
and what comes after,
death
black
Kushal Oct 2020
They say there's pleasure in pain,
For me it isn't the same.
I find the pain in the pleasure,
Go too far without a tether.

From a dark place,
To this heavenly space,
Then back again,
Lapping in this hellish race.

I break free but it doesn't last long,
Soon I fall in love,
Try write another song,
But I no longer get surprised when it all goes wrong.
Acina Joy Oct 2020
There are steel shears
in your lying hands
and a dress of hedges and thorns
that are my shielding woods.
In the back of my mind, as you hack
away at my limbs and marrow,
cut through bone and sinew;
I pray your blades grow dull
in what is left of me,
for steel simply rusts,
while I simply grow.
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