Sweeter than the taste of honey may our final conclusive hours be
However, this impending requiem tends to invoke louder as my heart beats more
And upon my ears I can hear pulsating blood vibrating whispers of fears within my mind, furthermore
Listen, dissolution comes dancing for the culling, smiling while gripping tightly tremors tied to tragedy
Such a bane score, so quietly personifying a fatal phantasm that we subserviently wait for
Thus, mentally run from, as to dream optimistically about the uncertainties regarding eternity
A memento mori lingers, although perhaps it will all fade into a blighted eye stained with obscurities
Wishful thinking…still, I propose Socratic thinking… that of “what ifs” and “whys”
As if, what if this creature that hunts our very lives, only does so to understand why it is alive
Condemn forever as a lonely presence, living vicariously through the tales we tell as we die
Guiding us away from life’s lies when we become decrepit and mortified;…Vivified is death’s sacrifice
To give generously something which a reaper can never receive, our ever-blooming misconceived mortality
Tell me, would you ever think divine beings yearn to escape an existence bound to a bleak infinity?
Could we be angels consciously subsiding herein a mortal dimension to forget for a moment our divinity
Hoping desperately that this everlasting prison, which we are chained to surely does not last perpetually
And that liberation comes hastily, as we crave the knowledge of a beloved, and poetic peaceful end
…I ask is that not also providence…
How many times has the creator created the stars that we see while the night sky oversees
Give unto me a number that equals to the countless parallel universes composed at the foot of God’s throne
For what is time to an immortal, but a concept held scared unto man
Nevertheless, revel for a second at this flower…adore this notion which sits more precious than gold
Inconceivable to think that we were deliberately constructed this way as to waste away
To meet that grim persona whom about I spoke of before, yet
Possibly, we expire and the stars collide so God can perceive those gears belonging to time as we do
Therefore, cherished novelties here a physical fantasy we might simply be… Hence, the ideology
The dogma of Azrael,
Who waits endlessly as heaven’s faithful time keeper, one always feared and always lonely
~ Paradise’s Poet ~
This is such an arresting piece…. sigh…
I really appreciate the length of your lines, it really makes me get immersed easier in your poem, which it definitely deserves. I like the philosophical tone, which is without much preaching, but more akin to understanding and kindness and it is something I encounter rarely in poems that want to “make me think”.
I really loved this :
“As if, what if this creature that hunts our very lives, only does so to understand why it is alive”
You’ve hit on the existential questions we all face as we consider the mortality of our lives.
such a great foray into existentialism and the curious matter of our condition ~ I’ve always felt these ideologies are an innate form of escapism, something so inherently vulnerable and human about the need to constantly search up
also really liked how you played with the meter and flicked between internal or more traditional rhymes to pace and then more drawn out ones to emphasise – nicely done cheers
This rolls and flows like it is spoken word.If it is not then I think it should be. Questions require answers but some question can’t get them. There is perhaps a reality that transcends such polarity and duality where there are no questions or answers. Who knows.Nice writing.
I enjoyed this spiritual muse very much. Awesome graphic too.