Parody of Distance
Estranged men caught in their remote dimensionLoving only that, which they can see and touchDigging foxholes to hide their fear of infinityThe concept has always been thereEternity within the hearts of men,yet they can neither see it or feel it naturally,so they clutter their minds, with tangible temporary comfortsOccupying dull imaginations, with darker thoughts of probabilityThe definition of insanity, yet men continue to live and dieChoking on the fruits of their own knowledge,either dissecting humanity with Occam’s razoror pouring double binds upon their own headsbecause seeing is believing, yet belief is the state of mindin which a person thinks something to be the case,with or without there being empirical evidence,so not asking a question, because to them it does not exist,yet with their limited imaginations they have lofty ideas,as energy can neither be created nor destroyedSpending all there of energy on temporal thingsnot considering a simple truth,where will your essence spend eternity
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment