Why are we always pulling so hard
On the chains which bind us to life?
Why does rest elude our clawed grasp
And all is filled with perpetual strife?
Pulling and straining at the bit of our worlds
Gnawing at the reins of our breath
Kicking and screaming till our voices are hoarse
And silencing only in death
We are fettered and shackled to our dancing pulses
And drawn to the depths of our souls
Always, it seems, to be getting somewhere
Yet digging, still deeper, our holes
Why are we always trying so hard
To become so foolish and weak?
Wrapped up in presents, in tinsel, in beer
And claiming ourselves to be meek
Yet when we stand back and we look in the glass
And we see our own wicked facades
How can we wonder at the pains of our lives
At the incessant, cruel wrath of the Gods?
And so I ask you, my fine foolish friends
Whilst mankind's on the edge of a knife--
Why are we always pulling so hard
On the chains which bind us to life?
Author notes
It always seems like life is a constant series of trials and troubles. Does anyone else need a rest?
A contest entry
- Make this THE largest Contest EVER on AP [enter, enter, enter!] by Symphony.
18000 points, ended April 28, 1014 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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"Pulling and straining at the bit of our worlds
Gnawing at the reins of our breath
Kicking and screaming till our voices are hoarse
And silencing only in death"
This poem was hugely descriptive; i am surprised that it hasn't received any comments left on it yet -
the part which i quoted above would have been the one that stood out to me the most ;
you ask some valid questions in here, but to be honest, i think even when people don't have problems or worries in their life, they CREATE them deliberately, because they 'dislike' a quiet life, and i'm sure we're all guilty of this at one point or another -
very well written however and i enjoyed reading it, thanks for entering
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