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Tanya Bunge. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.
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The heart has been torn from Humanity,
Spark of Spirit slow draining away.
All that's left are these husks of our insanity
and the promise of another empty day.
How we clutch close the mascots we've made into suns,
fearing darkness when idols dissolve,
never realising that the most exalted ones
are just Shadow Kings built upon fear.
We suround our bodies with glitter and gold,
leaving souls in a wasteland forgot -
and we pride ourselves on emotions gone cold
while applauding all sick, moral rot.
Created to flourish and enrich God's earth
as a social and functioning race,
we're defying the aspects of apiritual birth'
ripping features from Truth's ravaged face.
Now we're lost inbetween the mirrors that were
a reflection of all we could be
and the only inflection on which we concur
is the sad misconception we're free.
We are lost and alone - no direction at all.
Every goal, every principle dead.
What a sad, sad extinction for such promise to fall
and expire all alone in my head...
Those masterful puppets who believe in their rule
take such pride in their Empires of Air,
when in fact most adored is the world's biggest fool
without substance nor soul anywhere.
The meaning of Life did once have its worth
and philosophers pondered and searched
but the screen's now gone blank
like the reason for birth
and gone are the ideals researched.
Life WAS about living and growing and peace,
and caring and loving and more -
but sad, all that's left are these bones long dry bleached
and man's prison behind Sin's jewelled door.
Reality veiled by madness and mists
yet this nonsense we choose to believe,
rejecting the truth to avoid it's sharp nips
living dreams we create to deceive.
And the source of our passion, the balm for our pain,
the essence that is all Life's spark;
ever precious and wonderful, everything good
we ignore in our pursuit of Dark.
Fermenting the festering fruit of our sins,
we lustfully brew Death's foul wine,
believing Eternity waits just for us
while the truth is we've run out of time.