My Blog

i found a wilted rose crushed beneah weaves of thorn,

the vim of its petals have long been dry and sapped.

its grim circumstance fatefully entwined with frolorn.

my heart wa overwhelmed by despait to witness deaths display,

for such a rose deserved a womans tender hands

or snuffled as the fresh fragrance of loves play.

but such is life that knows to take something good

and leaves nothing but a heartrending resentment

for its deeds do not claim fairness or shame but providence.

in time the rose shall transcend to be as dust is,

that bonds with a serenely fleeting breeze,

meaning is given to the mystery of lifes apathy

in granting the rose its immortality.

as insignificant as a man may be balanced against the seemingly infinite universe surrounding him, he holds the gift of a unique creation we know to be the mind. man is concious of who he is and that w/c surrounds or presently limits him. among all created only the universe and the mind own infinity. in the absence of man the universe is an ocean w/out water, everything held is sand.