When all is lost
Some turn
To Poetry or Prayer,
Prayer or Poetry
As the case may be.
For Life is
An unpredictable farce
Played downwards,
And we sometimes find
We can't keep up
With destiny's
Uneven, painful pace.
So some write Poetry
While others Pray
Hoping the pendulum
In World's favor
Will sway,
While destructive forces
Still, desperately conspire
To finish setting
This poor World,
On fire...
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