Implied,
was my heart an open book.
Amplified,
for your daring spirit.
Gratified,
by a simple twist of fate.

The rain will fall,
in big generous drops.
The trees will wither,
in a burning red grace.
The beings will rot,
in a slow daily pace.

The ants march on,
and the lights continue
to burn out.

But the purpose,
with the way,
only burns as brightly as this moment
and each moment exists in this thought.

09/06/2003

Posted on 09/07/2003
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