I grow more tired as the days wear on,
Fumbling through pocketbooks of ignorance,
And striking off another act of defiance,
All for a fire that is sure to be burning at the end.

This could always just be a dream,
A mandatory skipping through the conscious,
Almost like no one will be able to touch us,
And this fire could continue to keep burning.

I do not know what to think these days,
Could be that thinking does not even matter at all,
And everything is already decided at the end of this trough,
Regardless of where we may pray.

Perhaps I have already lain in my grave,
So it does not really matter what happens tomorrow,
Because today was decided many, many years ago,
And everything was just going to be, just because.

Nice write.

Beautifully, Beyond,Brings Brightness

(((((Duane)))))

The liveing dead
U think your a live but what if your dead
Not knowing,were your soul lays to rest
Forums of body whit no scents, walking around but your times spents
Are time lent
One god
I had lost of life one that i now
Levels to life and death

Thank you, ladies...Much appreciated as always.

No Gods here, mate...Just us wee mortals.

Mortals
Yes we are god here all the time mate
Not say am god cuz im just a man your poems kool
,,

Cheers, glad you enjoyed it.

Cheers,were the beer
God now every thing
You made your grave befor you was alive