Personal, Poems, poetry
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Natural Guise

What kind of value is in a sunset
in a blank stare
of ruby sky
that lasts minutes and dies
forever repeating
until eyes cannot see it.

What kind of meaning does 
a moon hold that wanes
tighter and tighter
into celestial
discipline that
breaks and
bends
and therefore 
spends eternity
existing
for no other purpose 
than mystery

While the humans 
gleam short-lived lives
capsuled by illness and delusions
because one of them talked to snakes
and bit into apples

Isn't it a wonder
how nature spirals?
that rocks cut in two could hold crystals
In oysters, pearls

I'm not asking what the purpose is
but what is the purpose?

I've lost my only way to see
Malice once to the ears is now melody

We're living in a vaudeville
thriving on the innocent kill
and I'm admiring the sunsets

look how much the earth endures
Yet we hold no regrets. 

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