The Existentialist (?) Goat

I dream of the day, that I wake up from this daze

There’s a purpose I know it, I just can’t help but feel lazy

Pained by opportunities and attracted by a light

That only ever turns out to be, a candle in the night

It’s the backdrop of nothing that really scares us the most

That hollow sense of illusion surrounding struggle and hope

Most aspects of achievement require a sense of direction

If it were really a word I’d describe the feeling as perplexion

A starving goat I stand and choke on decision

In front of two bales of hay, between superfluous visons, of outcomes

Carved upon two very separate routes, that are one and the same

And so the choice bares no fruit

Just choose one and eat, you hear that sound of defeat?

That measured ticking’s full of fear and it’s more than a beat

The clock is killing, you say

Shut up, you’re killing yourself

When a choice is presented you shouldn’t need any help

When you consider your dependence upon altruism this goat could open the door to a very selfish lesson

For the individual, if we may discuss such a thing

Endeavour is measured in profit

Or in other words, gain

If I have an apple tree, and you take it upon yourself to help me

Get the apples to the ground, your motivation is a compound

Of mental projections regarding outcome

If I get hold of all the apples, then maybe I’ll give you some

But what if you’re a carnivore and I’m being unfair

Your interest in apples extends no further than that of a drop bear

You help because you care

And take offence because I dare

To be so rude as to make overbearing assumptions based on food

I say stop being a pussy

This is not about apples

I merely illustrated the point in an attempt to tackle

The concept, of mutual dependence in the human race

If you consider yourself autonomous, I know that might be hard to face

We’re all existing here somewhere in space and time will do a pretty good job of eradicating every trace, of this thing we call the face of the earth

Don’t get depressed there’s a reason not to let it disturb you

It’s the petty little problems that redeem our freedom

Believe it or not it’s for the sake of sanity that we need them

We’re going to die anyway, they provide a distraction

From existential revelation

That is comfort in action

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