A Poem.

I am the tar filled puddle.
Sticky,
toxic,
stringy,
and poisoned
I linger on.
This Rubik’s cube of a game called life
is repugnant to me.
Why bother to run in circles
playing mind games and ego games with each other?
Why suffer through all of the suffering that comes with living here?
To what end?
To end up in a Judo/Christian/Muslim Hell?
To end up in Tartarus or Purgatory?
Some Nirvana haze or Valhalla?
Even going to…