
There was never a door
much less an keyhole
no answers to the secret of life
the prophets of despair
proclaimed total obscurity in life
at death everything muddled
forever
the Human
not much more than a succession of acts
performed for an audience of blind eternities
mere rustling of leaves
from the tree of desolation
no trunk to hold on to
no root to call god
so it is to be a function
consciousness
a fluke of evolution
a secondary property of the body
aiding its inconsequential survival
so it is to exist in the universe
that does not exist for the Human
an arbitrary dream with an irrational plot
in the cold ache of waiting
engulfed in lurid perceptions
awaiting the sudden “Cut –
it’s a wrap” of time
merely life… I say
merely life
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