Capable

The universe is absurd,

which is why we must

fight

against it.

The universe is quite beautiful,

which is why

it’s so painful

to conceive of.

Like angels born of flame,

a heavy mix

of fire and ice;

darkness and light

the name of the game –

tunnelled towards death

like weary-pawed mice.

The swagger of youth,

the dreams, in fancy dream’d,

snagged by the root,

an idle spray of leaves.

Do all you must,

the power in your hands

is like cutting, jagged dust

calling you to make a stand.

Each day is like a howl

from the lonely wolf’s lungs,

as, alone, your time you prowl,

each hour its only one.

The universe is absurd,

which is why we must

fight

against it.

The universe is quite beautiful,

which is why

it’s so painful

to conceive of.