Do you find yourself, sick, sick of life’s travesties
Its futilities, its heartbreaks and their inevitability?
Do you then wonder, what do I exist for?
Do you find a definite answer, or do you let melancholia take hold?
For soldiers live to fight and serve, and bridge men to die.
What do (If anything) – Do I exist for? I ask tonight.
Are you sure even of this bane, this existence, the question shall arise.
For I think I am, but never with a certainty of mind.
For flowers exist to look pretty, to sow, and to writhe and die
What do (If anything) – Do I exist for? I ask tonight.
Where is my grand battle? My bastion of goodness?
Where do I make my heroic sacrifice? Where then is my sunset ride?
For heroes exist to overcome adversaries, vanquish evil, and then die.
What do (If anything) – Do I exist for? I ask tonight.
Life’s all a strife. Hell. A pestilence of the most horrible kind.
Few get grand send off. A sacred shrine. Most simply cower before the light.
You, you’re the only thing that makes some sense in this life, of mine.
What do (If anything) – Do I exist for? I ask tonight.
A DESI MUFFIN 
♥_♥
This is so beautiful. You’ve an unbelievable fluency in your words. The way you start and weave along the whole idea, it keeps the reader moving on. LOVED IT!
I see, you’re too good with narrative fiction.
may or may not have tears in my eyes.
Beautiful.