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Ryan Apr 16
13.8 billion years
spark, space, and dust
boiling ball of gas
cold dark rock
an impossible miracle
70 billion dead
7 billion alive

a crystal lattice
of chemical bonds
ups and downs
forever dissolving
into a pool of entropy

a small heart
trying to make sense of it all
where have i come from?
where will i go?
in the infinite nothing
who am i? how do i know?

in the void of my anxiety
i see your beaming eyes:
two perennial stars,
a breathing soul that feels
and i know
that if death is the end
if life is but an illusion
you, my friend, were real
When the complexity of life overwhelms my anxiety, this poem helps ground me into what, I believe, is most real.
venus cafe Apr 14
why must i care
for a world so unforgiving
why must i be
when there is no point in living

the world pushes and pulls
with all of its might
never a happy ending
nearing my sight

so as a stand
at an intersection a few
tell me, world
what must i do

why need i
care oh so much
when a world of nothing
has me in its clutch

need i always put myself
in the way of harm
when apathy already
has me in its arms
Srikar Apr 12
As the light seeps into the west,
And the Sun slumbers in to a rest,
Weary birds go out of sight,
The night, shy, comes from twilight.

The calm spilling over the pure,
With stars sprinkled on azure,
Come to light the puny lives,
Easy to miss, in the looming abyss.

Yet, Star-lit sky, through its heavenly rains,
Showers peace, on thoughtful plains.
Ecstatic nectar, flows from the moon,
as river of solace, by the hills of reason.
Like the stars, we are easy to miss on a cosmic scale. Our lives  have no intrinsic value nor purpose. We also are very close to "The abyss" implying death. Just like the vast darkness inundating the stars.
However, the star lit sky gives peace on people who think about this. Nihilism need not be depressing. It gives solace while staying reasonable, indicated by the river of solace by the hills of reason. The safe feeling is always bound by logic, not by faith or anything else.
KyleB Apr 11
The rain clouds are dragged over by invisible winds
A storm. Raging, strong. Unstoppable
Colder than ice, piercing through my body

The rain is wetting my eyes
The storm is controlling my heart

A world, a body
My cage


The clouds my fog

The body is nothing but an empty vessel
Rats welcome
Making themselves home
Nagging from the inside

Just a puppet
Only some skin and bones

It is a waste
I am
Everything is useless

This is irreversible pain
The body’s only filling.
Never. Ending.

Changes impossible
The inside is dead

Please help
What will it be like to be dead?
I imagine peace
But not the sort that makes you pretend
I imagine comfort
But not the sort that makes you crave action
I imagine oneness,
But not the kind that makes you feel lost
I imagine silence.
But not the type that makes you crave noise
I imagine stillness
But not the type that makes you restless
I imagine emptiness
But not the type that makes you feel alone
I imagine nothingness
But not the kind that makes you hungry for stuff
I imagine
And then, I do not
Another day
Another dime
Another useless
Unheard rhyme

Another day
another dime
On the ladder
I do not pretend to climb

Another day
another dime
Another way for me
To waste my time

Another day
another dime
I make a dollar for you
And lose some of mine

Another day
another dime
I bear the burden
Of your wimpy spine

Another day
another dime
The suffering you leave
Is your greatest crime

Another day
Another dime
There will be no justice
It's all broken this time
abbey Dec 2020
nothing is sacred. nothing is special. bread rises, a man dies. both of these things are as important as one another, and because of this we are free.
Samara Nov 2020
You're my September sun
I see you're there
You show up every day
but still I'm cold
Shivering in your light

the universe is a hall of mirrors
reflecting my anxieties
refracting my good intentions
indifferent to it all

tumbling around in the density
over and over again
trying to see it through
but only seeing through you
be gentle when you're chipping away
i want to hold it together

propagating eternally
Samara Nov 2020
Ophelia and Persephone
my kindred women
& forlorn spirits

I wish to embody the
eccentric melodrama
of their complete life
the grandiosity
the tapestry of all
that life is
and should be...
void of any
and all
Zhavaed Haemaed Nov 2020
Existence, consciousness ..

who are we and what do we do ..
A puff out .. a drag of cold air, racing .. racing .. head full of existential thoughts  . ..
Living, a wine glass .. a shot of warmth down my throat  . . Emotions these running flow of consciousness .. why do I think it all ?

Lying, in the dark .. an athem of sort, in silence reforms .. ideas and lack of them .. and thoughts, a void is born !

Internalising emotions .. finding my thoughts so alive in this darkness  ..
Hurriedly may I pass away to a lack of form ..

Insanity .. beckons me .. and what more can I do but nod .. meaning, I seek meaning. And not an iota of cognition is ever got.

Tired, I am tired of life as I know it, the bones ache, the thoughts become nonsensical and we deliver as we are meant to .. not very sure, not very sound .. in the air . . drifting slowly, and surely .. towards an end.

What is this eternal rack of hell that we are accustomed to... What is this longing for something that has passed us far by .. who am I even, floating aimless .. who are we, under our skin tight hides.

Disaster in the waiting, a last beacon calls to the inward eye .. and I see, albeit shrouded in dark .. nothing. Alas, no meaning.. an absurd, surreal delusion called Life.
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