poetry of Capt Jack

[Capt Jack]

the fire and desire that burns me to the core
soothes not the aching within, the aching without
yet the sun still shines
the earth still turns
the rain and wind still pass uncaring across the sky above me

why should they care?
the order of things is life and eventual death
at the hands of some unforseen force creeping just out of our grasp and vision
that will not be quelled by wishes and hopes
by prayers and all the pleading of a billion weeping eyes

life is on loan, payment due upon the demand of a universe whose order and tempo is beyond our comprehension and control
we are separated from it as a singular entity
but undeniably part of the whole, regardless of our desire to stand out amongst the uncountable minutiae that surrounds us
so is the natural order of things
try as we might to change or avert its will
the delusion of immortality as a desire as futile a battle as has ever been waged

would you stay if it were granted? and see all you know and knew turn to dust before you

I think not

the endless pitiful sorrows of a world gone insane would drown you as sure as the unending tide pounds mountains into sand and washes them from their million year rest

as sure as there is a beginning, each story has an end
in the pages in between, the moments that count the most
with its joys and sorrows, triumphs and failures
with its endless banality and epic sweeping drama
we are each our own author
unpublished and unknown

as it should be