The darkness of light,
the silence of sound.
The unnerving glance,
from the smile with a frown.
Delays the inevitable,
confuses the truth.
Makes mockery of usefulness,
while reviving the uncouth.
Universal uncertainty,
absolutely unfound.
Intellectual foolishness,
tied-up, yet unbound.
Living is death,
for some not departed.
Death is the life,
for those disregarded.
All this we are,
and yet, we are not.
The truth is disguised,
by the lies of the heart.
Darkness and light,
silence and sound.
Worrisome glances,
the smiles and the frowns.
The inevitable ties us,
delays the unbound.
Confuses with certainty,
the intellectually unfound.
Living the lies,
of this curious age.
Dying the death,
of the morally enraged.
All this we are,
and yet, we are not.
The truth if the lie is,
we're just not that smart.
January 23,2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem