What point is there?

What point is there?
To concern oneself with the past
It is better to attempt to hold back the tide
Stop the bird from flying
Better to concern oneself with
Extracting water from stone
There is no point.

Though I am like cattle
Branded with the mark and impression
Of yesterday
Thoughts of normality and regularity

As what I once knew was my world
Was how I ate, slept and lived
How I breathed

Now I face the other side of the leaf
A different horizon as it is a new destiny
Change presents new ends
With that I revel in the unseen
The unheard and the unsaid
So again with all my rage
I ask to think of the past
What is the point?

When all I have is experience and knowledge
It seems worthless compared to pain
It is not always valuable and never removable
Just there, present like the moon
Unchanging like the sea or sun
I can’t make any change
What good would that be anyway

As I sit
I maybe in danger
Not knowing my surroundings
Though I know one certain thing
There is no point to worry
If one shall, one shall die
I can only hope for a speedy death and a slow flight to heaven
So I ask you all, what point is there?

Live life not as if you know you will die
But as if you’re waiting to die
Place that pressure upon yourself
Add a little tension to your everyday routine
For it is under sharp relief and brutal reality
That we realise our potential to flourish and thus cease to worry