by W.M. Francis
A philisophical poem of life...please rate and/or write a brief comment
|In a chaotic moment
Beauty is destroyed.
But from destruction comes creation,
And beauty is restored
From Chaos comes a vision,
Made luminous by itself.
And the seeds of creation,
Are formed from the ashes of the destroyed.
There is Chaos before there is peace.
Even the wings of a dove must thrash
Before it can soar
We realize who we are meant to be
The pain we endure makes us-
Even more then it destroys us.
And if it should destroy me,
My death will be forgotten.
And my life,
It will live forever in memory.