To lament that which we are rid of
After we chose it
Why do we succumb to such things?
Is it a fools passion
The hopeless cry of the romantic
Or the nature of the human condition?
One day no more will we worry, wonder or want
For that which was once lamented
Is now not even a memory
Replaced it has been by that which you again be rid of
Repeating your cycle evermore.
If madness was truth
And the truth will set us free
Then perhaps we should listen to everything, no matter how mad it sounds.
What is it that makes us human
Could it be the random acts of kindness
Or the faith we have in others
Maybe it’s all of those
Are we so hopelessly divine
That redemption is not needed
Our sacrifice unwarranted
Does magnanimity abhor
The altruistic acts
Allude us the answer does.
The good people
Those who have the biggest hearts
Most caring attitude
Are those who once lost everything and know what it truly means to grow.
We are not our possessions
Our status or even our glory
We’re capable of so much more, if we are but to try and be as such
Be kind, be good and fair, what ever they mean in this world now
For no other reason than this
Because you can
What is it to know
To feel, accept and long for
Is there anything after that which was or that which might be
The curse of the curious mind, always wanting more, never satisfied
A fools folly to be sure
Yet who wouldn’t want to have just one more cast of the dice
Another throw, a better throw, to achieve an outcome we can all live with
Must we relinquish ourselves to this fate or challenge it again and again in misplaced hope
To know we must again challenge it all, for just one more throw.
We live in a world where people have already traveled it before they’ve even set foot outside.
Their claims of the beauty it holds without any idea of what is.
Such is the life lived through a screen.