Existence

The world is a continuum

Simply revolving on its own accord,

Despite the path its occupants take.

The day we realize

That we are nothing more

Than a collection of atoms and cells

A mass taking up air and space

The day we realize this

Is the day we all stop moving

The day we all collapse

Under the realization

That we mean nothing

We are insignificant.

We carry on in our selfish ways

But that day will never come

Because we will never cease to indulge

In our own selfish fantasies

That we mean something

That we are of significance

But this is all, but a lie

Can you guess what I am?

The blood of my opponents
Is smeared all on my body
And dripping down my sides
The flesh and juice has settled
The roar becomes dull
My blades have just stopped turning
Easing to a halt
My powers been diminished
And my work has been fulfilled

Little monsters

Little monsters

Scary monsters

Roaming round the night

Claws outstretched

and teeth bared wide

Looking for a freight

Little children cuddled up

In bedrooms

Tucked all tight

While dreaming, hoping, wishing

Little monsters

Do not come into sight

Scurry, scurry
Creak, creak, creak
Little monster feet

Pitter patter
Little claws
Stomping round the street

Peeking in the windows
and lurking behind the door

Do you see the little monsters?
Listen and hear them roar