Life is amusing, if a chore

Let me dream of a world meant to be
made of good things, and all wrongs
to be ended, like the diseased
thoughts of my death.

I wish to escape all suffering, but i can’t.
Perhaps it is my delusional mind
which makes it worth living to see
what i amount to be.

A human, or a machine?
Who knows the proper path
towards enlightenment?
Towards an illuminating all.

Life, let me pass by
as drifting, slowly falling
leaves, dragged and dropped
by high, turbulent winds.

I will not succeed
and all is well.
As life is not to be a tree
but also the falling leaves.

So, i am a leaf.
I drift, and get swayed.
Into joy and despair
i fall gently, to no God i pray.

Then i feel shame
since everyone wishes
for me to be a great tree.
But, my destiny is to drift and sway.

Published by Makrothumerian

I am a man with no great joys in life, other than reading. To seek tales of distant places and people, i have sought for a silent, yet public place, where no one will know me. So, i write, i live, i dream of a more strange world. It is the comfort of philosophy, that shields me. Tales of distant lands that comfort me. My own writing, that disturbs me.

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