The Knowledge of Death

The approaching colony 
Hand in hand
Step by step
Singing the songs of their old tribal lore

They are full of hope
Stepping into our airspace
Praying that the journey they made was not in vain
That hope lays on the horizon

What is the tireless academic supposed to do when he has read all the libraries, seen all the sights and has experienced many hardships? What is he supposed to feel when he wants to pass down the knowledge in his life to someone more deserving, only to find a future without a promise? Without hope?

I can't tell you what they will think when they step off that Spaceship. After hundreds of years traveling in space, will they be comforted finding that the thing they tried to escape would become their next destination?

An eternal repeat
Tragedies replayed over and over 
And over

Tell me I need to be optimistic
But it's good to know when you are going to die
Still, I can understand the optimist's search for a future of more promise
I can feel their hope as they pack away their golf coins for their future grandchildren
Or when they give love another try
I can feel it
But I can't see it

Because you are already gone, and it was never meant to last
These arms that reach for your body will never find you
You, whom hid yourself beneath my bedsheets
Sleeping in a comfort, however temporary, with tears in your eyes
Because it felt so good for you to feel loved

And these parts will stop, this I know is true
My fear paralyzes me 
And there you are, out of my reach
As life continues on it's dance
We are paralyzed for an end we know will come
Still we sing our songs
And search our planets among the stars

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone Chapter 1 (Condensed Version)

 CHAPTER ONE - THE BOY WHO LIVED  Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Privet Drive were the last people to be involved in anything strange or mysterious. Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills.  He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, and a large mustache. Mrs Dursley was thin, blonde, and had twice as much neck for spying on neighbors.  The Dursleys had a small son named Dudley - the “finest” boy around. The Dursleys also had a secret, and they were afraid someone would discover it. They couldn’t bear it if someone found out about Petunia’s sister’s family - The Potters. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, and they did not want Dudley associating with a child like that. It was a peculiar morning.  Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out a tie for work, while Mrs. Dursley gossiped away as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. None of them noticed the large, tawny owl flutter past the window. Mr. Dursley got into his car and backe
Read more

Lost in Thoughts

A cold winter and my hands are frozen My eyes are weary For a long time they were open There are piles of books Each waiting be open There are pictures of worlds Of emotions left unspoken There is a formula for the writer A certain system to be achieved We must display the characters As neither good or bad Just psychological Significant humans A location A scene focused on it's nature The sunlight pouring through it's trees The drowsy morning of a mid summer The cold walk during the middle of the night in December Christmas lights adorning the trees A girl walks with her arms wrapped around her chest Wishing it was easier Wishing he was here There are things fantastical to be written about Yet there are also those normal, everyday moments There is a mastery of language that is needed A mastery of languages A mastery of diction A mastery of lyric Yet all the same A clear voice So that anyone could read it Original but not too original Enough to se
Read more

Past Lives or Schizophrenic?

Sometimes I feel like there's two of me. There’s the one who exists right here in the now. This individual has her own views and her own ego. She is able to make decisions even when she is a callous bitch about it and the world is generally easy to understand. Then there is the other person inside of me. I swear she is the most disagreeable person. Her name is Maoko and she is my past life self. She wins a lot of the time because she hangs onto her past or should I say OUR past.  Even before that was a girl named Talulah. She was a slave woman who was murdered. None of her life was that great. She’s fucking us both over even though she is technically both of us.
Read more