The principal contention holds out
That neither you or I or them
Are equppied with any sense
Of chivalry or honour or atleast courtesy
That might not for even a second
Suggest mockery of an insidious kind.
Life springs upon us the best and the worst
The warm and the cold
The cute and the ugly and the pretty
And then the nightmares and a not much better reality.
And it's hard to make a distinction
Draw a line
Make meaning out of a hapless situation
Where do our loyalties lie?
I know that nothing lasts
I know that mortality reigns
But I also know that these tears are real
What do we live for?