daily ashes

As the night evades the morning dew falls and daylight becomes real
This toiling begins, a crushing curse we obey, without a respite in view
This man’s days are but a few; just a handful if measured by the counts of soy nuts
Then the morning creeps into noon and questions are asked…’’what has he done with his morning?’’

It is colder than ice, the stack feel of it; of an unachieved dream or goal
Set by the natural lust of an intrinsic passion that we are stuck with
Sometimes we could wish nothing better than freedom from the yearning and groaning from the depths within
To cause our skills and graces to grow and shine for men to see
But too swiftly than we bargain for, twilight sets in and the daughters of music get weaker and softer
Bones grow weaker and this frame is frail
A little noise quakes the temple of sound and the golden bowl is broken
Nothing is sadder than the pain of an unachieved man
He’s like a desert; empty and void, dry and parched from the drought and want of water and life

Thus the pain within kills and burns
On and on, we trail a path of doom without the hope of change
Only if we remember that not all that meet the eye is real
Only when we have realized that eternity is an opportunity to never end
Only when we feel the reason to love while we can, give while we must
Share when we can and sow as we must
Then would we have left this world, which we must, ashes of gold that thrive even in the furnace of history
Remade unto immortality, by only our works of care and love for humanity!

thoughts by Ejohnlov


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