The Tree of Knowledge

Into the night that may swallow whole
What fear we have and render silent the voices that may protest.
On deaf ears our crys fall,
An uncaring void, unwelcoming, and unable to
See how we fall, motionless,
Into the apathy of entropy that holds the universe in check.
What pride, what arrogance would grow rampant
Had not the tree of knowledge bestowed the gift of mortality.

Ambitions of Man

I’ve seen the void and the void has seen me.
There is a tendency for reclaiming.
For a shadow: light, one can’t be blaming.
I, we all have become shadows, here see,
In the nothing we’re remaining to be.
Under a burning hot star, we’re slaving;
Futile mastery: elements taming.
Mankinds greed, a target too high for me.
The earth bows to no man; man to no one.
A forgotten creator looks down on
The ambitions of man under the sun.
And four fold to pay back what was stolen,
The debt in place, the back it’s borne upon,
Having been paid, He collects from no one.

Stillness

Water, mountain, stone.
Ship sails among reflections.
Stillness of summer.

Illusion/Hallucination 

Illusions
Artificial, ephemeral
Deceiving, misleading, twisting
Faint, deceptive, trap, escape
Experiencing, visualizing, believing
Evanescent, surreal
Hallucinations

Rain?drops

Raindrops.
Falling water.
Raindrops still if from eyes?
Being told this is not allowed,
Raindrops.

Musing

Philosophy.
Curious, burdened.
Seeking, learning, nothing?
Truth, insight, knowledge, discernment.
Asking, understanding,nothing.
Honest, heavy.
Wisdom.

Cold End

The coming dawn, I know it to be cold.
From a distance: voices, faces, in mist,
Are illusions lurking, or so I’m told.
In their discourse, they wildly insist
That if they fervently wish to be real,
It is so. Without permission they lease,
Manafest strange feelings for me to feel,
These things that cause my worries to increase.
A cold path waits for me after waking.
The morning sun abhors my taking warmth,
And I find no heat from it worth taking.
They, in the mist, wish for me to go forth.
Nothing before me but my bitter end:
A garden of sorrow, which I must tend.