Radiance [a poem]

Upon this stage, money is the measure of wealth

Yet all our riches yield no lasting fruit.

That which we cannot carry after end of breath

That we ought to spurn, this futile pursuit.

Presentation is all that matters,

Masks build names with tales sweet and vague.

A ceaseless saga in shattered tatters

Building reputation, a luxurious subterfuge.

But love brings light to darkest night, we find,

Guides us through life's tempestuous note.

Leaving absurdism far behind,

For all woes, it's the timeless antidote.

True love, divine, stems from the Almighty's grace,

Temporal deep love, through Him, finds its rightful place.