It’s not a love poem. It’s a poem about the mind trying to understand why it can’t let go, and discovering that the answer isn’t romantic, it’s existential. The “thread” isn’t hope. It’s habit, projection, and the fear of nothingness. Well written, someguy772. May I suggest a title? I usually have the hardest time with titles as well, but for some reason, after reading this, I thought I would title this--- of course it doesn't work like that when it comes to my own writing lol.
Dude,
The physical world is full of earthquakes and volcanoes, and we don't get a path to follow, maybe just a lucky piece of wood to hang on to in our whitewater plunge from birth to grave. The physical world matters. The emotional world is full of manic depressive moods, lies, cheap thrills, drama queens, sorrow, and almost enough joy. The mental universe is the strangest of all... gather knowledge, macro/micro/nano, all the way down to~~"we don't know a damn thing, and none of it matters anyway, it will all come down to ashes and dust." That leaves the spiritual universe where you've got your choice of gods and all kinds of ways to meet them, except for one, The Creator of this vast Universe who knows we do not have what it takes to get there, so He came to us. It's the only hope we've got.
Vol
A most interesting poem. Nihilism I tried but found it difficult to believe in nothing. I trust nothing but believing in nothing is difficult. Not religious but I believe in myself. A contradiction in terms to believe in nothing there must be something. A well written piece.