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Life’s Labour

At any cost life goes on.

Without passion,

Without drive,

Lost in desperation.

What is left to find?

When all meaning is abandoned.

When love has failed as guardian and saviour.

To be a void amongst a flurry of immense hearts.

Which roar with rapturous song of joyous conviction.

Whilst others blindly search for belonging,

Amongst mortal fear and trepidation.

To labour in such unequivocal unease,

Nursing a moral and brutal torment.

Edging forwards to oblivion,

Amidst eyes fixated with contempt.

They lack the nature of understanding,

The compassion or empathy,

That can realise any sincerity.

Doubtless lives are destined to endure,

Their futures racked as unknown entities.

On meagre hope fortune rests,

That will see these woeful spirits shatter.

Till all feeling truly desists,

Minds forever scarred, torn and tattered.

© 2021 Alana Bembridge

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