Often do I think this world Is too much,
Like that faint hush of whispering wind,
That befriends my ears right before the roof falls in on me,
These boulders and burdened rocks crushing me,
Extorting my life through suffocation,
I try to mine my time here, Excavate all it’s worth,
But what good are these jewels now that I’m trapped in this earth.

And often do I think this world is too much,
As wild fire embers make phoenixes of the forest trees,
I do the same, Burning brightly and happily
With such vivid smoke and pleasant expansion,
I ravage my home, Wishes for greener days,
Turning what I’ve known and loved to ash,
But what good is this fertile land with no seeds to sow.

And often do I think this world is too much,
It seems all good things are with punishment,
Just say you would do the same for me,
I hope you cherish the day I lay my exiled body before you
Dressed for something more important than this,
Laying in a casket of memories, Wishing for a beating heart,
For what good is death with no life to remember mine.

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  • bloorain
    bloorainover 4 years ago

    very profound! I simply love how you wrote this

  • BiographyofRed8
    BiographyofRed8over 4 years ago

    oh wow, yes profound indeed, fantastic writing dude

  • Matty B. Duran
    Matty B. Duranover 4 years ago

    Matt, as usual brilliant. The thing I love most about your writing is that you provoke thought. -Matty

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