THE KNOT

This world, so rich in its joys and sins,
Is a knot that ends where it begins.
Its purpose is to be a knot,
But ours to untie it is not.

For man has wishes and wishes to have
The joys, the sins, the world so brave.
So by the flame of his desire,
All things come ab't to fuel this fire.

Though seems it all is here to serve us,
We use but few of what deserve us,
And what we take, we merely hold as
Trifles which can make our day pass.

Of things and thoughts, the knot is tied,
By darkest human flaws abide.
Yet greatest joy and brightest light
The same darkness gives in its might.

To man, this life seems overbearing,
Death his time is never sparing.
And at the end the new beginning,
The knot of which is ever spinning.