by Nokian M.
Poem. Whatever. Whatever.
|Once upon a long time in MerryMorrow land,
By a deep dark ocean charging against golden sand,
Sat the last man; heavy headed, lonely, and sang sad
Glimpses of what was, is, and will be. All tasting too bland and
Questioned everything, himself included, desperate to understand.
Is "what is" forever resting in "what was's" command ?
Will "what will be" ever be free of any demand ?
And Why did we have to exist in a single strand
Amidst an endless ocean of questions on a narrow island
Of faint hope - not in what we knew or learned but - in a grand
Truth that would one day resurface in spite of dark, blind,
Futile needs and deeds that go hand in hand ?
Lost to his thoughts, sat the man for hundreds of years or a thousand.
Until one day, drowned in his questions, his island of hope drowned.
In his final thoughts he wondered if perhaps there was nothing to understand !!
Except how to accept and alongside withstand
Strife that comes about as man strives to expand.
'Courage' he faintly exclaimed.
Before Surrendering to his fate he wished the answer would one day find new land
That would survive beyond MerryMorrow land.