This one was written in response to a particularly bad dream… (I often had dreams in my youth of death in nasty ways, which fortunately stopped a very long time ago.)
‘Will We Ever Know Happiness?’
This soul is weary, world-worn, tired;
yet still it dreams.
Fulfillment yet eludes it,
closer it seems, yet so very distant.
Memory of failure haunts us,
yet faith remains, buried, weakened,
but still there.
How to restore the old drive,
the lust for life that fills our memories?
How old are we?
Where do we begin, and how do we end?
Empty, yearning, unsatisfied?
All of our remembrances are death and pain and loss.
Will we ever know happiness?