I cannot subside the day
Without causing my body grief
It wasn't always this way
But I must confide in this leaf
A seed must die before it grows
But what is the value of its new form?
The seed knows not what it sows
Its existence so easily torn
Into a new world its offspring born
Why soil the image of the deities?
All that lies ahead is draught
Revealing true nature and its frailties
The screaming stem can only pout
As its sun shuns because harvest is measly
No comments:
Post a Comment