TOIL

I toil on acts of futility
faith,hopes to find a true reflection
of an earthly perfection...
For I choose to believe there are reasons.
Just as the stars still shimmer
and caterpillars take flight.
there must be a reason
For my all to endless fight.
I need to burn away
this mounting sorrow.
So I can reach the heights I must for tomorrow
For If I can find one thing true to believe.
the world would be a Utopian cage.
In Which I would beg to be forever enslaved

The End

1 comment about this poem Feed