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Thursday, November 21, 2013

Transience

 
 









 

 
Death they say is a gift,
A stagnancy to the soul adrift,
The only constant in the world,
From the moment, life unfurled.
 
History stands silent witness,
To the ensuing emptiness,
No matter how it is spun,
Death never ceases to stun.
 
The departed soon are history,
The fading words, a mystery.
Even the best, bite the dust,
As one day, everyone must.
 
At times, seen as the easy way out,
But, life retains its own clout.
Every breath taken is beautiful,
No matter, how severe the struggle.

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