Infinity
By Louis Denair
In my days oh so dreary
as I plunge into endless reverie
I grow tired and weary
of that wonder I feel yet cannot see,
infinity.
The cosmic star that blazes
brightly in the sky
the mystic river that laces
the foundation of this world of mine.
From the core of the Earth
to the planets far beyond, worldly
wonders, vistas and all the wealth,
of the madness and all the folly
and indeed my own soul's melancholy
all contribute to the essence,
of what I call infinity.
And yet within this wretched space
I wonder and peregrinate
from the brim to the most confided place
despising this despairing fateof being held by this forever
everturning ruthless wheel of fortune
yet failing in the endeavour
to oppose death's imposing torture.
And truly when I thus reflect
upon my own tragedy and think
of my own terrible defect
thus imposed upon my being
that, ah the madness utter,
is surrounded by a feeling
that all around the matter
is eternal entity,
yet I alone fail to grasp,
the wonder of infinity.