Purpose

Our purpose,

moulded with denial,

that we understand,

insisting that we are living, 

misconceiving our purpose

to let the darkness applaud the

history we crafted.

Great expectations,

to thrive on misguided curiosity,

crying out to understand but

only the darkness will tell.

We're told it is eternal

but even from space,

with our eyes shut tight

we can see the darkness collapsing

with each defeated heartbeat.

Author's Note

I find it hard to really express this idea but what do you think of the overall idea?
Tell me about your philosophy on these emotions :)

Reviews

[Emma]

While I read this poem, I felt a desperation for help. As if maybe the world, as whole is crying out, but the people, with their expectations of what they think life should be like, are causing the world to fall apart.
It almost seemed as if you were trying to communicate the feeling of being lost or looking for something.
I really liked how the words flowed together in a sort of melody.

[Jovana]

Thank you for your thoughtful review Emma.
I think as a whole, we are rubbing our expectations on life, on each other. And the true meaning is being lost, smudged somewhere between our words. We think that we are getting closer to understanding our purpose, but the message has been altered by every person from the beginning, and is now lost somewhere.