Belief

Is there any question,
as to why we look to the sky,
and to,
us always asking why?

Is there really any wonder,
about this sense of entitlement,
and about,
us always searching for enlightenment?

How wonderful it must be,
to have such belief.
How wonderful it must be,
to feel such relief.

To never worry of,
war,
or plague.
To never notice all the,
fear,
or pain.

To me,
and all who are like me,
life is so anxious,
and peace cannot,
will not,
exist.
For, while,
life seems so frightful,
even pointless,
happiness cannot,
will not,
persist.

Deeply and darkly I've dared,
to become uniquely envious,
of your minds.
Your souls are so impervious,
to all the questioning and wonder,
of me and my kind.

We cannot believe what we do not see,
and you cannot see why we do not believe.
So, the outcome remains the same,
always the same.
With one of us dellusional, and the other insane.

We stumble through the dark, and blunder,
and as you walk to so-called Eternity,
we begin to wonder,
how you can believe so easily, surely,
while we sink,
apprehensively,
down-under.

by Xenoz
posted on 11/28/2009

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