Despair

I found a dark shroud thing

Laying in the road

Blocking my progress forward

It pulsed there, oozing black tendrils

Which reached out and beckoned

Like an open hand

Demanding joys from me as toll

And I could only give them over

In hope to pass

And the dark tendrils crept forward

And covered me

Weighing on me

Oozing through me

Groping towards my soul

And whispering:

“They don’t hear you,

You are the one to guide,

But have no guidance.

The one to teach

but not be taught.

The one to hear

But not be taught.

Who will lead you?

Who will teach you?

None.

You must trudge your own way forward

Learn alone

Walk alone

Talk alone.

And from the exile of experience

Teach

Guide

But who will listen ?

You are a doomed voice.

None to guide.

None to teach.

Your words are empty

Your experience meaningless

Is there a light to follow ?

IS there something more than shadow?

No

The gods are dead

And Yahweh a reflection in a dark pool

Of the burning stars

The dead stars

The unconscious unfeeling universe

Spinning silently to oblivion.