Wretched

Pain, pain go away
Come again some other...decade.

Will a battered body bruise the gods?
Are all the ways to paradise littered with broken glass?
Does a bird feel the need to soar to leave behind this terran mess?
What does it matter; the sheaves of death we gather.

A post to feed the soul (with arsenic)

Non-weighty, diaphanous strings of thought come then go never to be seen again.

These are but the results of the deleterious defects of a demented vital force, one not so vital and not so forceful.

The second post of more than one

If I die today will anybody care?
If I tread the paths of oblivion will there be angels who weep?
If I seek the syringe of despair will there be someone to stick it in?
If the world ends will it bang or whimper?
If love is more than a feeling will it expire with the body?
If sleep is unknowing life will a wakened brain gain knowledge?

The first post not the last

The inevitable way of life is death. The stars will all darken and the universe will shiver for eternity. Whence comes life? Whither does it go?