Mr Neo
Planetoid
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2010
- Location
- In front of a computer
Truth be told, I hate this poem. I feel I can do so much better. But the people I've shown it to seem to like it, so here you go:
What is it in this world
that makes us wonder whatâs beyond?
Is there something more
behind this ripple in the pond?
Are we insignificant
Or are we almighty?
And will this count across
The plane of what we know and see?
How does oneâs own life effect
What happens when they pass?
Are they driven mad
Or were they built to last?
Fate is unescapable
As most deny to know
Living life as always,
Until life lets one go.
While taking a downward turn
One finds their destinationâs set
Looking back at the world they left
And who their actions met.
What control one has in life
doesnât matter much in here
Oneâs soul is trapped in violence,
Their mind consumed by fear.
Inside the great beyond we find
How differently fate planned.
What one thinks is in their control
Is taken out of hand.
There is no real free will
Defying what one thinks.
Everything is planned out
To put one on the brink.
Our lives are all preplanned,
And one has no control.
And it takes a personâs death
To teach what one canât know
Enjoy life as it comes,
For when the time arrives,
Weâll all be burning below
Or soaring beyond the skies.
What is it in this world
that makes us wonder whatâs beyond?
Is there something more
behind this ripple in the pond?
Are we insignificant
Or are we almighty?
And will this count across
The plane of what we know and see?
How does oneâs own life effect
What happens when they pass?
Are they driven mad
Or were they built to last?
Fate is unescapable
As most deny to know
Living life as always,
Until life lets one go.
While taking a downward turn
One finds their destinationâs set
Looking back at the world they left
And who their actions met.
What control one has in life
doesnât matter much in here
Oneâs soul is trapped in violence,
Their mind consumed by fear.
Inside the great beyond we find
How differently fate planned.
What one thinks is in their control
Is taken out of hand.
There is no real free will
Defying what one thinks.
Everything is planned out
To put one on the brink.
Our lives are all preplanned,
And one has no control.
And it takes a personâs death
To teach what one canât know
Enjoy life as it comes,
For when the time arrives,
Weâll all be burning below
Or soaring beyond the skies.