Death is in the air and existence is futile
stress is our invisible killer that always haunts
listen to a loud noise that is beautifully subtle
self-serving actions are our transparent taunts
when we leave there is nobody for rebuttal.
Don’t love me now because it will never be
praying for the end daily but really want to live
actions are momentary lapses of warped reality
past the point of no return with nothing to re-live
ten different flavours of hell are open for you to see.
Life is like a Zenophobic paradox that’s clear
the toll through your mind is down to one lane
a life lived long is very short but quanta lasts forever
betrayal fertilises the deep seeds of all being inane
having eyes & ears doesn’t mean you can see & hear.