Pointles Living

To me

At the moment

And for some time past

Life has lost all of its meaning.

Although alive and breathing

I am in a constant state of melancholy

There seems little point in living

I feel that I am waiting to die.

With that passing

Will come blessed oblivion

To the cares and worries

The concerns about relevance and meaning

That have become a part

Of my latter days.

With my mortal coil perished,

Sweet oblivion n

And anonymity,

Will mark the endpoint,

Of my time on Earth.

Along with the millions.

The tens of millions who have gone before,

I will become a memory,

That will fade

Into nothingness.