The Making of Life

Our making, a mistake?

Omniscient eyes in benevolent gaze,
peruse the battlefields of life’s struggle,
the rise and fall of souls,
the blood spilled in hallowed names,
the persecution in fear, claimed as just,
and wonder so irresolute, must cause pain,
for the irony of purpose poses more questions
than any answers,
and surely beauty must in some way, be tainted.

What whim, this outpouring of life,
from crashing suns to human strife,
and does omnipotence feel despair,
in the light of choices made,
words espoused to honor not the value of life,
rather, in gain of some position of aspiration,
and like ants we gather in alliance, to protect our coffers,
the fear of loss more potent
than love’s sweet countenance.

Potential is ours,
yet what gain in the light of no return,
is life just withered by its own concerns,
are we lost to our maker, all hope trounced
as we war and pillage a perfect earth,
letting blood so frivolously,
life becomes without meaning, without value,
and these eyes that peer down with vested interest,
suddenly turn away in disgust.

Tony DeLorger © 2017

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Tony DeLorger

Full time author, freelance writer, poet and blogger since 1999. Twenty one published works, past winner of 'Poet of the Year' on HubPages, 'Poem of the Year' on The Creative Exiles, writer for Allpoetry.com, Google+, tonydwtf.blogspot.com.au
videos on YouTube and book sales on website thoughtsforabeautifulmind.com, Amazon and digitalprintaustralia.com.au/bookstore

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