The End

In the end we find beginning
Followed through for another end.
It bleeds the living of their life
Draws them down, brings us round
A reality bereft of meaning.

If you're rising up within a stream
Washed ashore upon a dream
Twist and torn beliefs are fleeing
Then floating up just to Drown

Follow the lanes, the lines, the channel.
Gone with the flow, to where? For what?
Destiny certain, your future is fate
You mould yourself and sit and wait.

Once a drop, of rain, of snow.
Funnelled now a torrent flows
Floods your mind, your eyes, your soul
Drags you down to depths unknown.

Rise and fall you hit the floor,
What goes up comes down again
You'll float to drown and round in vain

Your life is fleeting, future torn.
Destiny relinquished, sombre and worn.
Your mind is drowning, body and soul.
Your lifted up, just to fall!

(Another early depressing poem of mine, not my favourite type of writing anymore, but interesting to write none-the-less)