The Duality of Man
To live is to tread the fine line between optimism and pessimism…
How freeing the thought of boundless opportunity.
Without the incessant voice of purpose badgering to be heard,
one can hear the sweet song of birds. See the light
illuminating the hills in which they either could or could not one day reach.
The peace of knowing that to embark on adventure
is to explore the world with an empty inventory,
in search of nothing in particular, just to know that life
can be what you make it; magnificent, quaint, bold or barely bothered.
But with no walls, existence may mean exposure.
Where man sees merely the bleakness of a dark abys
Stretching for far longer than any human should have to live.
Believing he is cut from cloth he wouldn’t even wipe his own ass on.
Idle in a mid-point between not existing and not existing,
Where man can’t help but plan where his body goes.
A waiting room in which he officiates that
His otherwise worthless ashes be scattered into a porcelain mould
And cast into a urinal, so he may, once again,
be pissed on in death, as he was in life.
Consciousness is the burden of
forever toying with the complexity of existence.
To live is to tread with caution around the question
‘Why are we here?’.
How profound the similarities are
between the answers that liberate an optimist
and apprehend a pessimist.