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.