The Play Goes On and On
By Gunslinger
Torn by indecision, rent by inner pain...Face life with derision, you know there is no gain.Feelings so intrinsic, part of life and death-It's coming, can't you sense it? with every labored breath.Love? You say, who needs it? Joy, does not exist-Life is full of vagaries... upon which hope consists...Fate, or call it kismet- predestined, you suppose?Fortune? friend, forget it, the future no one knows.Morbid? just a little, but what more can I say-When you hear the devil's fiddle- he's always paid to play.Life is but a vapor- here today then gone...But the pity of the caper, is the play goes on and on. Written October 11th, 2001 © on Oct 11 2001 02:58 PM PST, John R. Yaws 0 • 10
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"Torn by indecision, rent by inner pain...Face life with derision, you know there is no gain.Feelings so intrinsic, part of life and death-It's coming, can't you sense it? with every labored breath.Love? You say, who needs it? Joy, does not exist-Life is full of vagaries... upon which hope consists...Fate, or call it kismet- predestined, you suppose?Fortune? friend, forget it, the future no one knows.Morbid? just a little, but what more can I say-When you hear the devil's fiddle- he's always paid to play.Life is but a vapor- here today then gone...But the pity of the caper, is the play goes on and on...."