Its clutches hold us in bonds,
Our mortal selves hold on,
There is that one problem,
The feelings of you harbor stir not seldom,
Love is in the atmosphere,
But who is keeping it all in line?
Their ruler many call Divine,
But who is to say that there is Divine?
Who is there to go to when we are out of line?
What if Divine was created by the human mind for comfort?
This life may be a hoax,
What if this is all a game?
The game of life,
Which we must play,
We are all living it,
Come and join,
Because if you don't,
You may regret it.
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Poem / Poetry
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