Yes, these are the times that try a man’s soul,
when platitudes from saints and holy books
seem flat and stale, the semblance of control
blurs hopelessly each way a person looks,
and a sense of overwhelming, dire need
(mixed with a loss of temporal guidance)
comes over the waiting mind; it feeds
like a piranha, in a frenzied dance
rending the flesh and bone into mincemeat,
then is amazed that there is nothing left
upon which to satiate its cravings.
So self-absorbed, living only to eat –
creating a sad universe bereft
of a saving grace, or things worth saving.
30 JAN 2003
