- all swirling in my head.
Searching for a single thread
that really makes a difference.
A tangled mess, a different view.
The tapestry is spinning in the
ever-altered taste of our absorption.
Flowers grow and bud and bloom.
Beauty found and lost too soon.
Cycles skewed by too much thought.
Suddenly we've all been bought
by scheming minds and ice cold hearts.
Will we ever find a way to love it all...?
The basic structures
that they'd built their lives upon
had been destroyed. Where once a little girl and boy
had laughed and played, a grave had been unearthed.
What the worth of childhood glee, if life could not be free?
Skeletal remains were reaching out. Long lost nights
and all the fright forgotten for a while - it reached for
them in yet another style. The rich and poor were
buried all together. Dust to dust, no difference can
be seen. Where now the gleam of sunlight on
the meadows of the youthful glee once felt...?
Born to die to live
again. The cycles never end.
Dig deeper for the meaning of it all.
Love is always calling out to you.
No matter all the roles that claim your dues.
Take another moment just to listen to its song.
Love itself was never really wrong.
Surprised, they found that in the end,
the smallest moments lived in love
were conquering it all...
? Michaelette ?
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