Poets logo

Pursuit

9-7-7-7 ABCB

By Noah BaldwinPublished 4 years ago 1 min read

Question, Question, ask me a question,

An answer I cannot give.

Rank yourself high in mercy,

Fools gold rendered by the sieve.

Oh fool, poor fool, search forevermore

To pursue greener pastures.

And what state do I find, but

A blank page to fill faster?

Run, run, far away, sprint as a fool.

Away from pain, greed, and hate.

Is there an answer you’ve found,

A life so distinct from fate?

A purpose, a purpose, you find none.

Pray to no one but yourself.

Is it so melancholy,

Knowing you serve no one else?

Empty, empty, my head is empty.

A soul, my chest, in torment.

This hole is dissimilar,

I cannot make the descent.

Sink, sink, let me be, let water drown.

I am nothing, I am me.

Waiting, waiting, always weight.

Let me sink, and leave me be.

I arise, waves settling below.

Calm after the storm, the rest

Of my life to live the norm.

Have I failed or passed this test?

Till the end of eternity, my

sole cause to find and be found.

For that’s a unique purpose,

Lest only we feed the plants

Soon to burgeon from the ground.

surreal poetry

About the Creator

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2026 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.