Disarray
"My heart is thrown in disarray. What is there to life for but the worries of life itself? To sigh at missed opportunities, and despair and the acking of yet another chance, all is lost and ever. I look at the smiles on childrens faces, innocent and full of life's content, I see the leaves on willowtrees along the waterside thriving on springs freshness that engulves the days, and still can not help but wonder, is this it? Why do we hold on to that, which will pass away in time, wither and shrink to nothing, forgotten for yet another age of hapiness to come? Was there any meaning in the lives of people thousands years ago? Not to us besides the things we can still learn from them, and then before them, the ways of men and women we shall never see. Did it had any sense? Will the mountains mourn over the fallen in the valleys below them? I sometimes think it is time alone which can give us meaning, and yet we fear it, for pass us too it will, and never it stops to hold the moment.
"My spirit feels heavy as well, and weary is the fraim it is set into. Much like a gem that lost its glance in a ring where the gold has long since blathered off, together a thing to put in a box and never to look upon again. I guess feelings had never my attention, and only the deepest of emotion could touch my inner soul, if anything could ever. The warm days of labour on fields full gold and evenings of cooling in the darkening air while sipping a drink with spirit, these are mine to cherish and relinquish when the days are gloomy and dark thoughts of sweet oblivion and seas of blackness wash over me, so I have been told. Now, it is such a day, and I can only think back at the sunnier days with not a longing, or a craving, but with a strenghtening in the doom that hangs over the drap of life that is I. This hour is blatant and honest, and bleak it is in its latitude. I know my time has come, and I welcome its bosom.
Death show thy face….."