Shadow Of Life Poem by Kevin Maroney

There's nothing now, a black void,
under which I am devoid,
devoid of meaning and every star,
I'm just this empty, writhing scar.

It's as if I've lost all feeling,
numb to the world, just reeling,
pulled by the current through every day,
till finally I'll lose my way.

It's all so pointless, I see that now,
the epitome of life is just as I avow,
as Shakespeare declared, it's just a stage,
to wittle away the hours in rage,
or 'deeper' passion for your wage
of survival instinct, a pitiful sage.

To die now is a small sorrow,
it's as if the tree has sunk,
to make all it's efforts in rust wallow,
before it's whole life's center debunked,
in a mockery of life, death awaits us,
to ever ever more mock our crux.

Yet if you knew, as the old have known,
would you sit and sigh in a home,
to wait for death and do nothing true,
till you're all withered and blue?

Or would you try to make your life,
filled with some meaning, no, much more, rife,
to fulfill that most creative of functions,
to make some sense and value of disjunction.

The separation's inevitable, it's always waiting,
but if we knew, would our fears be abating?
The pride of living's all in shadow,
When life's no meaning, would you lie fallow?