Futile Contemplation
When next you sit
And contemplate
The emptiness
Of your life,
Perhaps you'll muse
Past old mistakes,
Old Lovers,
And their lies.
Too many moments
Slip silently away
Longing for the past;
And moments mount
Against the day
To win the war at last.
With your lifetime spent
And no reserve,
Where will your last
Days find you:
Contemplating the pain ahead
Or lost in the pain behind you?
Stop for a quivering moment
And breathe deeply of the Peace,
Release the pain, accept the gain
And rejoice in its release.
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