In The Forgetfulness Of Darkness Poem by Gert Strydom

In the forgetfulness of darkness
I keep on spending time
as if my words can write away the insignificance
in one or other method,

can argue with the forgetfulness,
as if I can bring a context to the past,
as if there is great power in my words
and in the reality of the presence,

as if I can send every fiend and falsehood
straight to hell
and yet it does only remain words on paper,
the wasting of hour upon hour.