The Flow of Life
The flow of time shall ebb and flow,
As it pains us to see those we love let go.
The elixir of life, lean us to procure a true name,
Only to find that in its absence, we feel life's refrain.
To contemplate the idea of a true, living source,
Would only leave our selves in a state of remorse.
Because of this stream of fate and extent,
Many die every day-never thinking to repent.
We ravenously consume all we survey,
Without thinking of others who lack the ability say.
When the time comes that all has run out,
A single life will mean nothing to the hell-bent doubt.
The obscene wake of those cast aside
Will be the most prominent sign of how the life stream has cried.
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