Reality

My spines bent marred and serrated
as weak as my soul.
My lungs seek atoms fine particles which comprise the all.
Spawned to merely attach and detach eternally.
Yet almost an absence in existence they maintain the balance of the cosmos.
Although in this perplexing  journey
In the many trodden valley's I will prevail.

Simply by not seeking tears once flowed but rafting in rivers of joy yet to come...
Stanley Victor Paskavich
 

Total votes: 1