“No Amount of Wishing”


“No Amount of Wishing”

No amount of wishing makes it so;
Such tide’s against eternity, and I am forced
To cut and run this side of common sense. Of course,
I opt to claim another day, and in the afterglow
Of what I’ve known in life, I’m glad for sentiments,
And memories, the meat without the fat.
This world owes nothing to me: flat
Upon my back or standing tall, withal the evidence
Is stacked against longevity and lovers of this world.
What is founded on the premise of a goal
Remains outside precedence, far beyond the folds
Of centuries upon realities centripetal within this swirl
Of fame or fate: the present foments dusts and grime;
The future’s laced with grave discoveries and causal rhyme.

2 responses to ““No Amount of Wishing”

  1. the future’s laced, ’tis true. and wishing makes no sense to do. but still I find myself wishing, do you? xxx

    • I know wishing to be as natural as breathing; none of us avoids it. Having said this, still while it is natural to the head, it’s anathema to the heart, as every least affair proves over and over again. Still, while we know all this about desire, again, we seem to say that since it’s natural, it’s inevitable, and because it is inevitable, we must accept its rising fevers as well as its rude and tumultuous downfalls; both are natural and both are inevitable. As there is a hairline difference between virtue and vice, so to there is the same between the heath of natural desire and its evil twin, lust. Yes, I do have wishes and hopes and all that goes with both, but again, having said this, I know I am a fool, and there’s an end to it.

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