Earth's Wounds

Sun, 08/04/2013 - 18:27 -- zwj3489

In the end we are only dust blending in, the essence and energy of our youth lost.

The crow claws at the bones that once were strong.

Now we can finally give back to the world.

Nothing is destroyed, simply recycled.

Our remnants feed life, and life feeds our death.

We must kill to live, and our death is new creation.

Alive we are capable of destruction only, but in death our goal of creating and replenishing is attained.

We are but a scab on the earth, and as our scabs fall off and heal over, so ahall the world's.

As individual souls we can do neither harm nor good, all efforts are meaningless as existance cares not about us.

What is now will never be more or less, has always been the same.

Life feeds on life.

Guide that inspired this poem: 



Written in 2008


very good

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