Hell Itself Poem by Margaret Alice Second

My ability to interact with the world is zero,
ability to REACT to the world very low also

My ability to be touched by the world is al-
most zero too: it used to be my life quest to

Give meaning to life and find the reason for
existence - now that I know truth is relative;

Subjective - AND - I'm trying to honour the
inner conviction everyone treasures, I find

It is difficult to honour MY OWN truth: How
to decide which meaning to appropriate for

Myself - am I too lazy to exercise a freedom
that is mine to claim if only I would be willing

To break the rules governing my life? Being
on pension means being irrelevant in terms

Of production; though humanitarian causes
abound - How does one set about running

Around serving when the true philanthropist
jumps into the cannibal's pot - and being on

Pension - to me, at least - means being so
isolated within Covid 19 - it's a suspension

Of the reality we grew up with and now I am
left with a travesty of what we once thought

Was logical and good: BUT life cannot have
any value if it is conditional on living as if we

Were dead already? The real and only worth-
while goal of life is to figure out how to die with

Dignity as soon as possible: How to reach non-
physical life to take charge of consciousness -

Because living life within an emptiness like this
is not real - it should be described as hell itself!

[Written - Pretoria, South Africa - Monday
2 August 2021]