| The Meaning of Life
Life is a rock, slowly being eaten away by nature. Yet we
live it every day, hoping it will change so we can understand the meaning of it. Death is
the last pebble tossed to the sea never to be heard of again, and takes us away before we
find the meaning of life.
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What is this blackness, this cold, damp place? It is a
grave, where your body rests inside the earth for eternity. The earth you were born on,
lived on, died on. What's the purpose of making a man, so he can live a life of pain then
die a lonely death.
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A man, walking on the edge of the world, with his torn
clothes and sweat upon his brow, working so he can have something to give his family when
he dies, just like his father had done for him. The sun burning his already burnt skin
like a fire of pain from hell, trying to make him give up and die.
A young child plays by the lake, and cannot read the sign
telling people "No Swimming" polluted by those who waste the earth's resources
and do not care about the generations to follow. The child steps in and feels the oily
coat that covers her soft baby skin, and the pain of her skin burning, no treatment, sheer
stupidity on the part of the people who don't care. She will one day die from this
pollution.
A little bug, trying to survive in a world much bigger
then itself, crossing obstacles which to us is only dust, little things tossed aside, yet
to the bug it is life or death. A living soul only different from us by appearance and
size, yet unliked it will die a lonely death.
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Families in countries, starving, dying from
disease will not live long lives because most don't think of the pain they suffer, while
we throw away leftovers, they wish for simple bread and clean water, millions of people
who will surely die.
Death is all around, wanting to take those
who want to survive but cannot because they are too weak. They have not found the meaning
of life. No one ever will. All you can do is try to keep living so one day you might find
the meaning yourself.
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© Raymond Dery |