What happens when the engine of the lifeboat
That was initially meant
To save us from raging waters, die off?
What happens when the handles of the ladder
That we were groping on to reach
There where harmony plays itself in the air
Break and cause us to fall?
What happens when the Gods, furious,
Send more and more, particles
Of death upon our way
Merely to have us suffocating,
Gasping for air, our dreams and hopes,
Destroyed and our prayers, unanswered
While we face a silent sky, which has always
Been watching us without flinching?
What happens when days collapse
What happens when poets mourn their muse?
What happens when blank pages remain invisible,
No more able to be the medium
Upon which we shall write our stories?
What happens when doors remain shut,
Pushing us to understand
That the world is a mirage
And that the essence of the divine
Has always been inscribed in our genes
Even if we kept searching for meaning
And purpose in that which is mystifying?
What happens then, is that life slams
Itself upon us
Making us too weak to be able to stand
Upon our feet,
We can only create more misery
In our energy flow, which do nothing else than
Attract our souls into greater darkness!
And if we make it such that finding the cure
Be the sole cause of our prayers from now on,
The mutating reaper shall get contained
And life shall be allowed to go upon its way,
As smoothly as would a gentle stream,
Gurgling always those hymns in praise
Of the powers that bid everything be!