Mixed thoughts in my head,
Worry, the diabolic conductor enchants them all.
It is a repetitive chorus,
A rigmarole of dwindling fools
I should be able to stay up late tonight,
Till the angels’ whisper in my ears while I am awake.
What else can I become?
Time has gone
Dreams deferred, no iota of belief left
So one succumbs to flimsy hopes
Just getting by
No way to end the suffering
Because some preacher said seppuku is bad
won’t enter heaven.
Contradicting the eastern religion of reincarnation
There’s truth is none!
‘You chose what to believe and it becomes you’, the new ager shouted
‘You are what you think about’, all religions agreed.
But why is your belief so limiting?