As I breathe my life away,
Dying slowly, gradually,
I long for something, something else,
Something beyond this monotony and unimportance,
This mundaneness,
Why do humans concern themselves
With this dying, meaningless matter?
It is a question I cannot answer.
Death,
Is not half of Life,
For Death
Is a part of Life,
And it would be foolish
To waste Life
Concerning oneself
Over Death.
Why drives the desire of men?
What do men long so lovingly for women?
Is it in their body?
Is it physical?
Do their hormones project their desires?
I believe it is the deep yearning for companionship
Ths is the desire,
And with the absence of this,
Men's last, desperate attempt at that:
Sex,
A short, easy, quick-fix that numbs
their longing temporarily,
Yet their desire returns with each quick-fix,
Perhaps more,
Perhaps the same,
But man only needs love and companionship.
