Life

Life is empty
Of all contemplation.
A straight line. . .
No curves, no bends
Wasn't this the aching wish?
Then why comes the doubt,
Crouching.
Creeping.
Into the layers of blank dreams.
Jilting all complacency.
Crushing..
Self-gratification.
Strange thoughts in a herd
Crowd the psyche
Returns the sigh
Once again to beleaguer.