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Steam rising, the cold gray sky
Ephemeral, ever-changing forms
Somewhat like Rorschach blots on high
Disclosing even the mote in God's own eye
No matter how soft, the heart is brittle
No matter that life is staunch
Each moment it changes a little
Hey dee dee dum dee dee dittle
Bright sun, painting my window-sill
The shadows soon will depart
As ghosts reaching out like harbingers of ill
Like fear at a masquerade ball dressed to kill
Shadows deceive us, disguising the world
Lying as bedsheets on top of our heads
Though we hide in our covers, self-made swirled
We simply await each new day as Roses unfurled
All beasts real or not, shake off the chilling night
Taking leave to bask for a while,
Before resuming day's hunt for the throat, such is rite
Thus man springs from beast, much to his sorrow's plight
Yet nature in conscience, spoon-feeds us mirth
Rubs it into our spirits, and so heals the soul
For gentle is one who laughs at death and birth
And cares not a farthing for feast or dearth
Noon climbs swiftly with scarcely a sound
Society rides us, damning addictive drugs
Our motherland hands out beliefs sugar-bound
With subtlety yoking Pavlovs's bell does sound
Genetics set us on fire, our teachers' fan the flames
Yet God still feeds us one tidbit, the dream of free will. Sacrificial lambs are spared for other aims
While we are cast asunder bound in humanity's chains
We have no notoriety except what we own again
Our free and natural hearts and minds
Late afternoon has made us children again
We see no truth, we see no lie, neither have we bane
Crash! Crash! The roof is ill from holding up the snow
Drip! Drip! Icicles melting turning from ice to water
Slowly wearing my house with each drip, and just so
Each life whether short or long is only a moment ago
When asked am I well, I say "Yes but my house needs repair
The air that I breathe has rusted my pipes
Now my gutters are clogged with a lifetime of debris I have eaten other life while well aware,
That other creatures were eating their dinner there!"
Majesty's purple sunset takes throne atop the peak
Draping mountains in robes of evening deep
All becomes silent and still, as losing touch to speak
What's been learned in this strewn-about life?
Vulture says---"shriek!"
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