.
Life is a game;
we chasing fame.
The avoidance of shame...
futility is the name.
Vanity so zealous;
still they get jealous.
Wealth so fabulous;
emptiness still the chorus.
Enormous efforts;
moving back and forth.
A pursuit with worth;
the castration of comfort.
Succour gets found;
death loses her bound.
Tragedy comes around;
six feet below the ground.
A life without a glow;
all chasing shadows.
Life is a flow...
it ends on the low.
Poem written by Paramind
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