The Death of All Hope

 

     There is always the counterstrike,

A reply to anything and everything encouraged,

Every altruistic benevolent deed,  

Any reference at all to gestures of good will,

 

      It  has always existed;- teasing and tarnishing a good many -

And make null and void - every positive thought,

No choice but to experience its wrath,

None understanding futility of caring.

 

     Why be?

Why be at all when life

Not only humbles, humiliates and crushes

The souls of the Good;-

But actively seeks to destroy any,

Any with which the praise of heavens

Could be bestowed?

 

What be the point of existence?

What can be learned by the acknowledgement -

That working against us all;-

Be a spirit within only designs on decay -

Destruction - and the persecution of Humanity?

 

     ‘The voices seek yet another to channel,

To resurrect demons and cauterize the heart,

And the unwitting victim just doesn’t know

Why - and that’s the hardest to acknowledge of all,

Why?’

 

     The counterstrike will tell you,

Let you know that,

That perhaps we are the mistake now

Cursing this World,

     And nothing you can do will alter

The self-destruction soon falling upon us

And heads down,

     We’re staring at our resting place

We chastened and scorched.

 

Michael J Waite 8^th November 2016.