Philosophical phlog poem

Started writing this while I was drunk the weekend last, and just now finished it (while sober (ok one beer)):

Reason be to wonder why,
It be to ponder pie in sky.
Why the sun do rise and fall,
To know it matters not at all.
I envy them of supreme being,
Them who see quite without seeing.


Me I know but mortal life.
Life and death and random strife.
The fruit of life be naught but love,
Found in an other or peace dove.
That be the solace I do seek,
In them others strong or meek.


I crave it so so very much,
And rarely do discover such.
Such that do feel its way to me,
While I do feel my way to thee.
So alone I be most every season,
Knowing not the rhyme nor reason.


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