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Meaning... Tis' the thing Ive always searched for, but never have I found. Inner peace, I would die for, yet breathing am I now. A theory? Maybe. A hope? Absolutely. I keep on searching on, despite the fear that courses through me. "What if this longing is but a hope, an illusion, what then? Should my search continue on, though my endurance wears ever thin?" Is hope a comfort in itself? To love and be loved, is this where inner peace is found? Possibly so, if any humans' love is sound. Are we capable of love? If so, then why hate? The paradox is obvious, observe our human race. Survival of the fittest, push the weak and poor aside. Every man for himself, where is our dignity and pride? We fight like animals "Man is but a beast" Where is the civilized man? Did he even exist? He must have, where did the good come from? They say good always wins in the end, but will goodness last long enough? But I will ever cling to the hope, that mankind can still be saved. We have not sunk into total insanity, nor yielded to obvious depravity, At least I hope not. Have we? We have dug our graves eagerly, not aware of what it is. Not aware that sudden death strikes, during what we consider bliss. If one can actually call that happiness, everything, and an empty soul. Instead of keeping things that last, for conveniences sake they're sold. Assuming that things done for me, would bring me inner peace, has left me lacking nothing. Nothing, except for me. So I'll journey torwards redemption, in a state of "controlled" careening. Hoping to catch ahold of something actually worth keeping. Grasping at whats missing, eyes open barely seeing. Grasping at lost innocence, grasping for some meaning. Grasping for an absolute, something to place my faith in. At the end of my rope... God, save me. Hi people, Newbie here, and this is my poem. Tell me if you like it.