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emptiness remains

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we waste our lives

seeking the divine

and clouding our minds

with vices and

sugar-coated lies.

 

When these are removed,

what's left of the soul,

but remnants and

pieces of a curious

mental disease no medicine can cure

and few hearts can endure

 

 but we press on in spite of the pain

that multiplies and divides and

we call it progression and a life lesson

so it lessens the weight in fraudulent claims

but the whispers in the silent dark

say the emptiness remains.

Comments (2)

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I appreciate the sentiments here. Were you writing about religion per se?

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

Dear Nebs, I love this poem. I am one of those people, constantly searching for the "divine", but those moments of clarity that prove the insignificance of this lifetime and the next, are the ones that strike the hardest and leave the reddest...

Dear Nebs, I love this poem. I am one of those people, constantly searching for the "divine", but those moments of clarity that prove the insignificance of this lifetime and the next, are the ones that strike the hardest and leave the reddest marks. Thank-you for this poem.

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