Stuck in the mud, surrounded by quicksand. The beauty of a rose stands tall atop a staff of thorns.
Love and Hate balances on the razors edge. The breathe of a new-born warms an old man's heart.
Today, Yesterday and Tomorrow.
The weight is heavy, at times agonizing, other times the breathe is as relaxing as the purple mountains of a perfect sunset.
The journey long, feet tired. and aching, time for side B of the broken record.
The day burns like the embers of the flame, time never slows, never takes a break. I stand, and trust tomorrow is a new day.
Tomorrow will arrive, tomorrow.
Nature, earth and sky gaze upon me, the silence of the wind shouts - just breath. DMK.
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