Emptiness of Living
The confusion of the living
With its sad and futile passions;
Is wearing out the people
As a woman wears out fashions.
What men have taken from the many
Is now the property of few;
The commandment not to covet
Is what men now love to do.
The dream of being equal
Would give abstinence from pain;
But they counted all the cost of things
That were not theirs to gain.
The landscape of life's summit
That bathed itself in glory;
Has told us what we now can see
With judgment on the story.
All the banal thoughts
Of self-righteous grasping men;
Never found the satisfaction
In truth written by a pen.
The friends we have today
And those that we once knew;
Are not more than the memory
That we once listened to.
Believe the fleeting moments
Find what they never gave;
For the sins of selfish living
Finds no comfort in the grave.
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