Walkin on Air

Searching Faith

Searching faith like were it lost,
as an errant child bent at any cost
to show me it can by itself
escape the dusty Bible stuck on a shelf
and disprove thereby our mortal ethos
that after all, feeds all human bathos;
nay, rather surf Earth's time-bound wave
and let gravity pull us into our grave:

Life's Death is not boring as such,
there is disbelief to calculate
like folds in a discarded garment
and then there's the din of words,
which nobody desires to hear:
position quantifiable stares
on irrationality of age,
as does the old fart combing his
retreating hair not hiding his scalp;
adjusting his specs to myopia
he sees only what he imagines
is survival under hot ashes,
where he outwaits entropy's fire!

Ah, to live forever without breathing,
floating on the road to oblivion
playing silent games of make-believe:
naked beauty of taut languid youth
breezes pick up and scatter once more,
like pieces of a broken doll strewn
by cross tykes in cities of the lost:
rootless, hinged frothy spittle of tears
never wept, drown me in sad torrents!

Where did I get to without faith?
Wilted flowers drying in the wraith
crowning my bald pate as an angry memory
of unbelief's irrefragable empty travesty!

by Oraculus on October 7, 2015.   All rights reserved

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Searching Faith

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