Poetry of the darkness

Is life just the suffering between deaths?
Why do we destin ourselves to the suffering?
Why in moments of silence do our screams tend to be the loudest?
Why do I seek the cold and darkness of the waning year?
I seek no light, no warmth.
I seek no kindness, no cuddle.
I seek embrace cold and clammy.
I seek the wet and brittle.
Death brings not answers but knowledge.
Death brings not conclusion but abscence.
Life continues.

Kangra © July 26, 2005