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All those who ponder are not lost
#15
Looking for a meaning,
Sifting the sand of time,
Searching for a turning point,
An epiphany, a fork in the road.
Nothing sprang to mind.
Nothing must then be the meaning
Futility abounds and mocks
The efforts of those who think they have found a path. In the end we are the sand that others try to sift.
Those who dress in religion or philosophy,
self deceivers euthanising their way through the world,
On a promise of something better.
Those of Science and industry
Equally burnt and boxed, or planted in the sod,
Meaningless.
Dust gathers dust ad infinitum.
