Melancholy Truth

In the ripples of the darkness,

a shadow lurks.

Tired and lonely,

it recklessly works.

The silhouette toils hard,

for a better life in the future.

But no matter how hard she works,

she doesn't realise the vain of the suture.

Because in the end, we all collapse,

in a pile of mere dust.

Then, nothing matters,

not love, nor trust.

It is all fake that,

a light shines at the end of the tunnel.

Life teaches us much, that is true,

Yet we are all stuck in a  runnel.

This is all endless suffering,

that we cannot escape.

Some have it harder than others,

some are victims to rape.

Those such sinners should

be cut up into pieces.

Head and limbs, fore and hind,

and other such bodily breaches.

Life isn't fair,

one must learn that on their own.

And yet, some people go out of their way,

simply to pick a bone.

Hence, in the end,

you must carve your own way.

Because it will do you no good,

if with the wind you sway.