Bliss frightens me

Bliss frightens me;
the promise of bliss
to be precise…
what if it’s not eternal?
how does one live
afterwards?
back into the fold
of petty pleasures and pains?

And if its eternal,
wouldn’t it be boring?
after all,
every monotony
by definition
is boring

The eternal fires of hell
they don’t burn you –
or so I’m told –
maybe because,
burning is a respite.
after a while, though,
a pain
that doesn’t finish you off
will be as impotent
as eternal bliss

Bliss frightens me
unless its assured
that it’s unattainable;
for how does one live,
afterwards?
what promise does one
look forwards to?
does one crave,
for the contrast of hell?

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5 thoughts on “Bliss frightens me

  1. asuph says:

    sophie: thanks!

    mayur: 🙂 well i know. and i don’t like writing rhyming poetry much. or even reading. the focus shifts to form, rather than content (for me at least). but thanks.

  2. Aria says:

    Angry old man is actually a musing man .. “every monotony by definition is boring” .. right! and this bliss should be boring too .. but as usual I like the poem . .esp this line ..”burning is a respite. after a while, ” too good..

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