This life's repetition,
You arch forward just a little wiser,
Then loop right back again,
Yes, each cycle means you have made progress,
But, pray, tow'rds what, my friend?
Is there time in this short life to finish,
Even should you reach one hundred and ten?
Or does each generation carry on,
From where we have left off,
Destined to loop right back again, itself,
Making the same errs oft?
Tow'rds what, my friend?
Will we make it that far?
So many questions, asked so many times,
Just standing on one of the cycle's arch.
No comments:
Post a Comment