Game Of Never Poem by Paul Butters

Life-Death Forgotten, Never Was;
Time, matter whirling, empty space.
Love, merely hunger, drives us on;
Self, ever lonely, rots apace.
God, faintly ruling, far away,
Sees sinful, lusty liars pray.
Vague faceless ocean,
Blackest Light;
Nothing tells us what is Right.
Life is but a Game we Play;
Death no more than end of Day,
Forgotten.

Yet Remembered,
With Hope) .

(C) PB 22\4\1971.

(Final two lines 13\6\97) .