Written 03/27/19
The brutality,
Of life
Are found in its
Symmetry.
Between
Cradle and grave
Lie the
Strength and dreams
Of men.
Nature,
That blind and ruthless
Executioner,
With each fell swoop of her blade
She reminds mortal men
That she is unwieldy,
Unyielding and absolute,
A dire certainty
Appointed at the Fall.
We are born,
We die,
We evolve,
We dwindle,
We learn,
We forget.
Our limbs,
Once strong and sinewy,
Our minds,
Once shrewd and piercing,
Become obsolete,
Our lungs,
Once heaving violently,
One day lie still.
The sun rises only to set,
The Spring blooms only to
Be buried beneath the frigid frostline,
Men arise only to fade into
The obscurity of the grave.
And as they slip from the memories
Of those who held them so dear,
Nothing but weathered headstones
Remain to commemorate their
Unwilling participation in this
Unwitting cycle of life.
Comments
Post a Comment