Tell me that there is a reason for me being alive,
that there is a final meaning
in this reiterated thruway we drive,
a destination,
we shall one day
arrive.
That there is a hope of honey hive
still, in the bitter fate of these fading blooms,
a sweet end, amidst these echinate woods,
for our little baby bear to thrive.
Tell me there still is sunrise,
an orb of gold,
melting into the farms,
in the end of these never ending
roads across starless night we incise,
with our naked eyes,
these brumes,
renouncing my longings
the vision, the oxygen,
of the cerulean skies!
Tell me at least
there is an efficacy of wisdom
in these chaoses
of cause!
Tell me that there is an oases of pause,
in being trampled
under these callous droves of
time, hooves and paws,
a soar of glory,
in the uneven scales
of these jagged effigies of
such sketchy laws,
attuned,
not by the touchstone of just
but by the atrocious even fangs
of canine jaws!
Tell me that
there is candor,
a poise of fairness,
in the scales of these horrid claws
anchored,
through these,
lesions'
hawse!
