Monday, January 13, 2014

The Fool's Errand

It's a foolish endeavor, they say.
To pry out into the emptiness
Grasping and gawking towards
An existence that is unbeknown to you.
 
Proceeding on, dashing forth with eyes shut. 
Convincing yourself it's not all for nothing.
There is hope up ahead, a hand offers stability.
But the chase has proven to be a fool's errand. 
 
An ache that breeds the contempt
For those who have established their means.
With comradarie at bay, you face the darkness alone.
They feel pity.
 
Feeble attempts produce jaded minds.
Rehearsed words fall upon uninspired ears.
A different greeting. A separate occasion.
Heaped into one common knowledge.
 
The clock is ticking, and the game plays on.
Another trite display looms up ahead.
To recreate the monument of yesterday
Has proven to be a fruitless venture.
 
Retreating into a hapless coward
Would be far too simple a task.
Onward you trudge, into the vast fog.
Alone, wounded, and delusional with faith.  

10 comments:

  1. I don't know that faith is delusional. But sometimes, discouragement tells us that it is.

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  2. Retreating into a hapless coward
    would be far too simple a task"

    Just loved these lines.
    Great work.
    Pea

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  3. Things can't get much sadder than this, Mary. You put it so aptly.
    But then life goes on and sometimes things are a bit better. :)
    ..

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  4. Still onward, though. Many things of note have seemed delusional until faith has proven out. An inspiring read.

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  5. One gets distracted along the way but life must go on. Beautiful write Mary!

    Hank

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  6. a quandary of thought..but still on onward march... an air of sadness in this but the resolve balances it out...

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  7. sometimes it becomes necessary to do a self evaluation.

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  8. "To recreate the monument of yesterday
    Has proven to be a fruitless venture."

    remember it, but don't recreate it … it's that ol' saying "it's not how many times we fall, but that we get up after each fall"… or something like that.

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  9. The heart will always believe according to its own will. This poem mounts all of the obstacles against that truth. The next and the next and the next poem willl find their way through.

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