Compass

Go North, Go West, Go East, Go South,
Nowhere will you find the reason,
For the change of season.
Why you consume,
Why your loved, need to be buried in a tomb.

The flowers bloom,
But you don’t know why.
The inevitable doom,
Which you cannot deny.
You can ask god,
For he will not answer.
Nothing odd.

Doesn’t this world seem too dark,
To be planned?
The struggle has left its mark,
Hidden by time’s sand.

Don’t you know where this leads?
When the soul bleeds?
No matter how much you pray,
From whom you run away,

This universe remains without meaning.