The future, its viewless things,

That undiscovered mystery.  Will

We feel death’s lifeless wings.

No one wants these ending things,

Hiding behind curtained windows

To keep the world from seeing dying


Bathed in the dew of morn, the snowy

Landscape spreads.  This is the world in

Which we are born, the world which will

Be gone when we are dead.

We become sick of wasted bodies, the

Mortal strife, the pain of taking a breath.

Is sorrow the course of your life as your,

Soul combats with death.

We pray for calmness before our wilted

Spirits must go.  Life is beginning to be all

Too clear, and soon we will all be gone

From here.


2 thoughts on “Reality…#259

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