Bliss
I am often told that ignorance is bliss
That one can still be joyful whilst everything’s amiss.
But what they do not tell you, friend
Is that a life like that soon tends to end
Why not explore the world of erudition,
Where glee, indeed, is an omission?
There is no reason to be fearful
The journey there is quite delightful
You then perceive that there is beauty within chaos
As you slowly pluck the feathers of the albatross
As the boundary between black and white just… dwindles
And the tender sorrow in you kindles.
To think that splendor comes with goodness
Is a mistake we barely notice
Within the world of blinded thrill
Where wits are stocked into a hill.
Tell me, friend, do you know love?
Have you explored its darker section,
Where man can choose to snuff
In the flames of his affection?
What I am telling you, my reader
Is that with bliss there must be sorrow,
Or you will wake not in the morrow.
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