Life’s lie which
Buffers our death
Just brings me
That much closer,

Like denial
Appearing as freedom
When negligence dwarfs
Every fear

From casting doubts
Upon debt
While agony falls
Over gardens

In the dead of night
Hiding lilies
Drooping too low
Getting lost.

Most plants
Need stabler rains
Than immoral heat
Chasing sunlight

Behind cloudy roles
Always drifting
Such deeper roots
Never take.

Day’s principles
Slowly will fade
Into saddened dusk
Growing jaded

After fashioning
Blossoms so gorgeous
Their only hope
Is to wilt.

Our faith demands
Better dirt
Even though some skies
Never open,

With God himself
Mocking toil
Letting work ensure
Further droughts.

Why try hard
If we burn
Regardless of vines
Bearing roses,

Once per year
Until seasons
Remind us all
Nothing lasts?

• J. Pigno