tired eyes

my tired eyes, they fail to see,
that which is still good for me.
for i have seen the works of man,
and travelled tru, the wasting land.

for all is waste, and all is lost,
what is life without its cost?
a dream fulfilled, a moment's gain,
is but a drop, in the storming rain.

what lasts? what lives? what does not end?
for mortals feel the flowing sand;
which slips beyond thier grasp so soon,
and ends like all, in inevitable doom.

and still the truth eludes me still,
for what is knowledge without a will?
and so i travel on to in hopes so vain,
that my tired eyes will find a way.

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i think the last 2 lines sucked. haha... got kinda.. tired i guess. impulse poetry if you will.

must be stemming from my study in ecclesiates...


but really. i feel like that now... as much as i know so much. i'm not sure if its just the army life getting to me, or something more.

ahhhh welll.