Archive
11/13/11 - (4)
On a Whim
Every once in an eternity, an eon or three, It seems absolutely necessary For me to acknowledge death's presence,
Then step back, take a refreshing breath So immortally deep That even the stars shiver, flicker, quiver;
Otherwise, I'd grow complacent, Forget that though quietus isn't that immense And existence does progress,
Sunrise to sunset, incessantly, Perpetuating the generations of me, infinitely, God can erase Genesis and the end, on a whim.
11/13/11 - (4)
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