Hello guys, I have a poem here that I have entered. It makes reference to space and distant galaxies and such, so I have included the latest track I have produced to go alongside it. It doesn't have any vocals to the track and is only there to add to the experience of the piece. I hope you like both the track and the poem.

 

A Worlds End

 

     I sit here, my quest stone - broke

My chin sloped down

My purse of wealth no longer

Revealing an abundance of love,

     I am reeling from

A very sad reality upon

Occasions of Earth that deny

Humanity the compassion born

So furious within; a truth that,

Has me reaching only a pyre upon

The deceased flesh and bone of

A future not wanted;

     We are dying inside,

We lie to ourselves and hide

The tears as we fake a promise

‘The Day’ will once again retrieve itself,

     But everywhere I turn my

Head and everywhere I exhale the air

In clouds of vapour upon Winters

Lonely echoes, I sense life dwindling,

The day is night, the night darker still.

 

     An abundance of tears,

An abundance of tears told I

To be human, insisted

‘Life’ is still worth wanting,

Yet every day the distance

Between these living souls stretches

Further apart,

     No birds sing,

No rustle of leaves from trees

Whispering bright intentions,

Just a loneliness that spans

A universe with sorrow,

     And I wonder as Worlds End,

As Galaxies drift into a void to be seen

No more; do I cry for this Globe,

Do I like ‘other’s’ share

Offerings of sorrow for what we

Have become?

     As we peer deep into unknown

Possibilities with our gigantic

Robot eyes, are we in turn

Watched from above?

 

     We like to think

Ourselves – ‘Gods,’ for we

Are the grandiose that kill

For killings sake,

     All around we are

Bogus in our endeavours,

So fake, so fake our love

Has gone, our cheeks now dry

And our tears burned away,

     As candles dim, and prayers

Are muted, do ‘They’ weep for us

As we once wept for ‘all’ taken

In the name of deities we have created?

     Can they understand ‘The Taken?’

Do they know of the purgatory we have kept?

    

      We may never know,

Or ‘want’ to understand,

For the isolation we are living

And dying, has taught us only

Selfishness of the architects

That created all our woes,

And let it be done,

Let it all be done,

For when love is denied

And only murder worshipped;

Who really cares who scorns

Our ways; when all are dead inside!

 

Michael J Waite 8^th December 2016.