Why are we so quick to wish a longer life?
What does a man benefit from living another 20 30 years?
His body weakens; his senses dull.
All he strove for all
his dreams they were never to be.
He goes along thinking he can make a difference, that he makes the choices; he has no control.
The fork in the road is an illusion; he will always choose the wrong path.
That realization ever so slowly sinks in, after so many years.
To believe he chooses a path only leaves him to experience the suffering of guilt and regret when it inevitably turns out to be wrong.
It results in his shoulders sinking further, his chin hanging lower.
Outward signs of a soul that is far too weary.
There's always tomorrow, they tell him.
He hears and nods.
But he knows no, there is only reliving today the pain. The emptiness. The hopelessness.
Yet he goes on. Not towards a goal, towards a happy ending.
He knows there will be no happy ending; only a blessed ending to the monotony of ut