Ant Smith

Mortality

Life On Earth

Body Clock

It tick away

Body Rot

And fade to grey

Body Not

Good enough

Body Got

To turn to dust

Bodies come and bodies go.

Mind Flip

And sometimes stick

Mind Think

Well, that is it

Mind Hope

For after-life

Mind Trip

Sure is nice

As the Earth turns

and leaf turns

and Moon turns in the sky

Hey, Mr Artist - Paint me a picture

Of life on Earth, This wonderful sister

Giving Wondrous birth, to creatures crawling

In the dirt.

Paint with strokes, both fine and bold,

The night in steel, and the day in gold,

Paint the young, and paint the old

Paint the stories as they unfold,

Paint the love, and paint the hate,

Paint our glories, and our mistakes,

Paint the joy, and paint the hurt

The living live in ignorance,

of that, that lives within.

The more they move, the more they smooth

A pattern on the floor.

The lines they leave, are lines that weave,

An image that they draw.

Paint our atoms, as they condense,

On a moment that almost begins to make sense

Before we’re born, to build a defence,

against the chaos of unravelling strings.

Paint the pattern, of our lives,

Paint the web, and paint the skies,

Paint the universal eyes

That hardly see us in a blink of time.

Join the dots with indian ink

Everything ends

As it begins

So flesh turns

And life turns

And my turn comes to die.

Body Clock

It tick away

Body Rot

And fade to grey

Body Not

Good enough

Body Got

To turn to dust

Bodies come and bodies go

There ain’t no truth -

don’t you know?

Mortality