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

Into pandemonium?

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,

And fallen,

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!