There is no inherent meaning
in the life of a human being,
no lasting one
they can themselves
imprint on it;
it is, it flows,
a muddy brook,
rushing or withering
to stagnant pools,
reflecting random shadows,
then dries up, ends,
the hungry soil
indifferently nourishing
itself with the marrow
of a pointless existence.
05.04.2022
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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