Too make use of my brain,
Is quite altogether a major strain,
My intelligence meager & lame,
Is life for all good intentions merely a game?

A game, unbelievable and unwinning,
In life we seem to excel in sinning,
We try to help our future selves by giving,
In this one life are we supposed to do all our living?

What will the afterlife, if any, bring,
Will we be angels sitting on a cloud to sing,
Will we find everlasting peace & solace,
Or are we to end this game of life goalless?