FLYING DEATH

Why are the answers to great tragedies,

 the forced answers to fateful decisions,

 the moral norms, the non-negotiable

 systems of rules, imposed on us?!

 Do we carry heavy burdens, rocks,

 shackling burdens, and even we

 ourselves do not really understand

 and know that as a Sisyphus

 of non-negotiable Courage,

 we reach the mountain of goals? 

The cracked groans of tears' pain

 Shiver in ghosts' pursuing eyes,

 And we ourselves may be but stumbling roots,

 Pushed and dragged by 

the vile mud-ground 

Towards deeper and deeper whirlpools!

 And the rest, like armies of ravenous fleas,

 like a starving chaos of blood-sucking leeches,

 at the unconditional doom-orders

 of envy and jealousy:

 they stone, they trample,

 and kill him who builds

 more successfully 

nowadays, brick by brick,

 his well-established life:

 Life, in vain, will not bargain with man,

 Our little blunders,

 our grey daily transgressions,

 are well laughed at from afar!

 - We must rise daily,

 though we know all

 our attempts are hopeless,

 And our arranged life may be our last:

 Faithless stumbling Thames,

 our mortality on the frying pan

 of our birth Has long since been measured

 - through the suffering biology of ourselves.

We dare not laugh at

 the death-consciousness,

 And desperate is

 the wolf-faced flirtation!