Thursday, 21 August 2014

A Crowd Of Masked Bones. ♥

Afternoon, I wrote the first draft of this poem when half asleep, which shows because it is slightly unusual. Yet the fact it doesn't all piece together straight away just adds to the mystery. This poem explores the idea of life and the purpose of humans and the earth. I know it's something which will never be explained, but it's something I love to think about.

Thank you for reading,
Kayleigh Jane x

A Crowd Of Masked Bones.

Structures of moving bones.
Upon an oblate spheroid
of elements and organisms.

Our ability? To exist
and cease to live.
           Worhtlessness.

In search of normal
in a crowd of masked bones, where
certain structures
create structures
of rules
in which the rest of us
abide.

We put our trust
in a man
unproven.
We listen along
to our saviour as
we look for our meaning.

We take light
from late distant stars.
Guided by death
in our darkness.

Each man that caved,
each man that lead,
did so
only because
they were allowed.

Such cursive scrawl
means this
only because
you believe so.

A dead language once
catergorised
men, as wise.
Our vast knowledge
           Insignificant.
Our message - lost
across a synapse.

_________________

'There is only one meaning of life: the act of living itself.' - Erich Fromm