DEATH Poem: Origin, by Sue A.

Who is the designer of the world’s most complex game?
One that decides why some must suffer
while others feast in millennia of wealth?
What creator crafts a system so “flawed”
To the human mind?

Yet the moon commands the ocean’s waves,
And who’s to say the droplets in our blood
aren’t guided by its pull?
Life is balanced to the tenth of a degree, yet

What rules govern humanity?

The only certainty we have is death—what a cruel game.
Are we our own grim reapers?
Sowing the seeds of our own demise?
Until our souls meet, shall we both find the answer?

Author: poetryfest

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