Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

I withers


I:
The mortal,
Inconsequential being;
A mere body,
To a thought;
Five elements,
Blended together,
Like,
Ingredients of,
A perfect recipe,
Amidst the,
Resulting alchemy,
Of which,
This I,
Is born;
Only to be lost,
Someday,
To the earth and ether;
The mighty,
I,
And its mightiness,
Reduced to dust.
Crumpled and crushed.
I
Withers.

4 comments:

  1. I really like how you wrote this. I could really feel the emotions.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you so much Deana. It is good to have your support on this one. It really means a lot.

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  2. you broke down existence into beauty, I really loved this

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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.