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Disillusion
The sky cracked open yesterday -
the crack remains today -
and though I had expected such
I do not comprehend it much.
We work and toil upon the earth
and toiling brings some sense of worth
but when we die and cease to live
what does the working give?
Is heaven waiting, gates upraised
as arms poised to embrace?
the trouble is we'll never know
what, reaping, we may sow.
Life's left delirious and strange
with naught within it to arrange,
but living brings its own reward
with life as its award.
The sky cracked open yesterday -
the crack remains today -
and though I had expected such
I do not comprehend it much.
