The Service (Villanelle)

I serve to live, or do I live to serve? Grave notions bend my will and break my mind. I live to give, is this what I deserve? I feel the pain and tears of my lone verve, How could the world I love be so unkind? I serve to live, or do I live to serve? My knees I scrape, on someone else’s turf, I search and seek, my soul I long to find, I live to give, is this what I deserve? Societies bleak waves I ride and surf, I choke on lies and fall into the grind, I serve to live, or do I live to serve? Extrinsic wealth; pain piercing every nerve, I feel the grim corrosion of mankind, I live to give, is this what I deserve? Tomorrow dawns another swerving curve, Perhaps for all these years I have been blind, I’ve learned to live and life is not to serve, No more grief, I’ll claim what I deserve.

gene16180

My muse can be unseemly and nomadic although she fancies meter and good rhyme, her diligence and output are sporadic, and some may say she’s moving past her prime. At times she’s off consorting with the sages reflecting on existence, as it were, At...

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