Follow Your CurveA Poem by Kenneth The Poet
The parabola reflected, the vertex pointing toward space
The pinnacle reached and the owner slides down in disgrace The curve appears infinite when imagined outside the screen But finality comes about when the vertex is suddenly seen On a slide down so the atoms can be unified with the dust This is the natural cycle, and it happens to be rather unjust No eternal punishment for those that massacred loads of folks Millions of eggs, just broken shells missing all their golden yolks A scale could be considered, the masses' sins are only minor And yet the outcome of death is the blade that cuts no finer The end of the curve inexorably reached, the second x-intercept The zero line garrotes every victim, and yet no savior interjects Into the cold hole drops the corpse, every unfortunate shell On the bright side, there is no unquenchable fire called Hell No judge sitting on the eternal throne to give the shell motivation Just its earthly wants and desires, there is no eternal reparation Has this hand reached the vertex and started sliding down? Who really knows, all I hear is silence in this deafening sound Maybe the curvature is slight, or a great vertical compression Either way, it's most likely the half of irreversible regression There is no infinite spiral that keeps pushing the hand out Rising up to the vertex and falling down is what its about The meaning of life, to follow some mathematical curve And to see rotten eggs earn a fate they don't deserve It seems unfair, and that may explain why atheists turn to God But even the thoughts of this hand may be ultimately flawed This is one view of life from a poisoned, degenerate mind Everybody else has a natural right to freedom by design Follow your curve to wherever it takes you, close or far Because we are all the same, made from the stuff of stars © 2011 Kenneth The PoetReviews
|
Stats
124 Views
4 Reviews Added on June 3, 2011 Last Updated on June 3, 2011 AuthorKenneth The PoetBismarck, NDAboutKenneth The Poet is an optimist wrapped in the candy shell of moroseness and cynicism. He lives between the two parallels marked 46 and 49, all while living in the state marked 39. He pretends that he.. more..Writing
|