True Nature of Life

Another flailing eve,
passing seasons grieve
as life’s wonders bleed –
into you – into I…..

And what colors are these bloods?
As we watch them leech the soil
to erode our greatest toil –
Do we care?

Does it matter to you that I flail in their waves?
That these nasty bloods should drown me, snuff me?
That I am just another soul who has come and gone before,
That my existence is nothing.

We swallow the bloods because we must –
digest them before they overcome us.
We taste their bile and yet survive,
Because your own drowning doesn’t lessen my need to be.

There are those who bleed,
and those who need…… love.
But it isn’t here.
There’s nothing but blood.

© 2013 John Richter

 

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About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

2 responses to “True Nature of Life

  • willowdot21

    so sad, no it is hope that it lacks . Great read!

  • Mark Kerstetter

    Sometimes I need to remind myself that the universe is and will go on, just as it is, without me. But other times I need to know that it means something – even if it is only a vague feeling of belonging – that I am here. I do not believe that your blood will be wasted, John, as long as you seek love and write poems like these. They will fall to the soil, like everything does, and they will enrich those who come after.

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