Life is a gift
wonderful miracle given
flower unfolding in spring.
Sunlight after
a storm
skies clear
air clean, fresh
so easy to fly.
Why did I
trample it in the mud?
I can't get it off
the slime won't come off.
Can't breathe the muddy water
just can't breathe any more
sun is gone
spring, summer gone
fall fading fast
only winter remains.
Will spring follow winter?
I think not this time,
not this time.
Too much lost
too many wrongs.
Too many
just too, too many…
__
I wanted to play the music
singing in my soul
music that everyone would feel.
But I only wrote words
empty, meaningless words
devoid of feeling
impossible to understand.
Life is a gift
what have I done to mine,
oh, what have I done to mine?
No, I think life is a curse
a curse given to some
I have taken mine
embraced it
and it has taken me.
Taken me whole
swallowed me
digested me
and all that remains
is shit.
Dark moments come and engulf joy, grinding it into oblivion. This is one of those, fleeting but, none-the-less a moment; one with deceptive and yet seemly veracious insight
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