the year has a dark beginning and a cold end. festive lights shine in artificial beauty, and even the most belated festivities come to an end.
perhaps a quarter way in life truly begins. After spring cleaning organises thoughts latched away in the mind, committed to in new year new me activities, hope will start to bud in the eyes.
perhaps prime of life is in the middle. Light encompasses the surface of coins and flows seamlessly down their rims. The doors they open are time consuming, yet their beauty is adored even in the certainty of death, hoarded for loved ones who never visit
There is beauty in having lived, But there is no beauty in death. And being feared is not a honour. Chaos, haste and suspense encompass its certainty until a last stifled rattle emerges.
Desperation and peace fight for the position
of the last emotion