Gliding Upon the Written Throne in the Fallen Sky
For every dream shattered grows one new
Tree in the forest of misery, I wander
Through as the serrated leaves fall to
Cut through my empty flesh.
Aventine prison of mysticism,
The irony of beauty surrounded by utter
Blackness overwhelms my apathetic
Indifference to life and existence.
Humans were created, not to bring
Happiness, but to fight and kill each
Other only for the sadistic amusement
Of the very god they blindly pray to.
There is no message or meaning left
In life, there is no joy in being alive,
Yet there is no sanctuary in death,
Existence is hopeless, mourning the faded sunlight.
poem by Michael Robertson
Added by Poetry Lover
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