Saturnine

The one who screams is seldom right,

Two trails for every tale, fight or flight,

Myriad of excuses for one can be found,

But in the end only the truth will be bound.

We are all capable of unkindness

Yet our souls crave holiness and light

Love of life, love of self and love of all

An aspiration like a never ending wall.

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Immersion

Immersion into a world so far gone

Hopeless derivative of a time of bygones

Yet we cling on to every little piece

In hope and faith

A conundrum for the rational

How strange is our predicament?

To be suspended in empty space

By something that we cannot see.

Not knowing when we would fall

Not knowing when we would rise

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