The purpose of life, in other words the meaning of our existence;

Times of joy and cheery tones;

Times of strife and broken bones;

Harkens onward, moving to time’s trumpeting insistence.


Some stride forward pushing against the forceful gale;

They work hard for heart’s content;

For them their destination heaven sent;

Obstacles abound they struggle on, ever on into the pale.


Ever fighting for lofty goal, ever working to achieve;

Fortune or health;

Fame or wealth;

Through long winter’s day and hot summer’s night they earn their just reprieve.


I know not what these strive for, the importance is journey taken,

With their effort and skill;

And their tireless will;

I smile and rejoice in life well spent and in time unforsaken.


Yet others plod on more slowly yet along the river’s flow;

As does cattle on the move;

Ever onward a mindless drove;

Ne’er accounting for rock or rapid, ne’er lift hand to row.


An observer am I on this oft’ harsh road;

Careful to guard my way;

Hard at times my tongue to stay,

I lash out in judgment, as if spoken some long lost code.


Attempt to stir the longing heart, set them all ablaze!

They stare at me with sightless eyes;

Their own pleasure is their prize;

All pronouncements on deaf ear falls, no sun light to burn the haze.


I pity these, the wretched souls in anguish and despair;

No life is this;

Their purpose amiss;

Living moment to moment, care to care.


Still onward the mewling sheep do continue their menial lives;

One day to the next they live;

Thought to excel none shall give;

On and on they sadly plod along, knowing not the meaning of life.

– Auguratrix


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