Questions Within

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem was created while I was asking questions about life in my head. I know it sounds crazy, but I got so confused, one day, about some of the fabrications of life, so I decided to write a poem. And here it is...

Submitted: September 12, 2009

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Submitted: September 12, 2009

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Is it desire which makes in me inquire, to change my entire, attire. Could it be bliss, touching lips of a kiss that makes that moment such a miss, and oh how I miss it. Is it majic at that moment so right, might be love at first, or deciet at first eye. Would it be crazy if I caused creations creatively, but cautious by craving catatastropes, countlessly, and continously, yet soundlessly, just me. Am I as real, as real will be, willingly, I say, for I see, I try to be, relentlessly, in tact you see, but surroundings are surrounding me, by around means as round will be. Like fish in the sea, without air, they are unaware that their lives are unfair, or at least their death is, not often questioned. Are the trials and Tribulation among us, or perhaps beyond us, and beyond is this rhombus of thunderous things, awaiting its time, yet we rest. For these, we cease, look at ease to our heavenly tutor, keep thy self plesant for your random future.


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