OBTW

[purplecapuchinmonkey]

Dark plumes in blackest night waft silently
thru vaults of ebon velvet;
fright enters not, tho eerie salts
of uneasiness corrode peace of mind.
Whenever ill swells and bad odors bid one
seek flight forever yearning toward
that place of happy contentment
known so well and in pace with freedom
from torment, one sits up nights thinking,
trying to reconcile fact and fancy,
blinking sore eyes, wading the pile
of prickly tormenting aggravation, the Guile.

Foursquare stand I in the midst
of burning fever, sweltering heat,
murderous fires. Life goes on, hate,
jealousy, greed, concerning itself
only with continuation.
Foursquare, sinking but standing,
sickening, but churning away, trying to be.
The elements, seeming blind,
strike down all our attempts
to build us a house. To what lengths
will Man go to try to be,
while in the end his fate is to not be?
You see, Man knows not that he is not to be.
He has always been, always will be.

( C. 1973 ) Mine
Like to be or not to be