In Vain
Bleakly human,
Defined by imperfection,
Haunted by generations of oppression
From ourselves,
But in vain.
At the edge of the void,
Inches away from the final step,
Throwing memories, time, and love in,
Desperate to fill the Nothing,
But in vain.
The black of light,
The white of darkness,
Infinitely entwined, enthroned, enraged,
Blank, pallid faces scream out,
With voices like the wind, whispering
But in vain.
Inspired by "The Hollow Men" by T.S. Eliot
For the Copy Cat Contest
Copyright © Danny Stinson | Year Posted 2011
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