In a world where popular is the truth
There is no chance for reality to shoot
Hoping for an early spring, devoid of cold
Hop from here on to another world
What is real and what is not
Aren’t everything is just a dot?
From the moon all living are irrelevant
Even the one they call, the president
Go further into the abyss of space
The earth is just a dot, just a speck
Sentient beings, what does it mean?
Conscious beings, do they really think?
Great faculties, what is a bomb for?
Soldiers, guns, why are there wars?
Further to the abyss, just an empty space
Living and the dead, the latter is in solace
Afraid of the dead ones, that move
Crying for the living, that doesn’t move
I like poetry that poses serious questions and encourages the mind to think beyond...and you certainly did that with this poem. "Sentient beings, what does it mean?
ReplyDeleteConscious beings, do they really think?" (My favourite part of the poem)
Thanks Avel, Just raising questions that confronts me every time I see inhumane acts. And when arrogance of men is over bearing, I always ask; What are we? Who are we? We are just dots.
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