Monday, May 20, 2024


We think that life
is a melody, 

but rhythm's 
more the gist of it: 

we sweeten in time 
with the rate of years' increasing;

we soften 
and fill out, 

while dying 
every minute. 

In pursuit of our truth, we lose 
touch with where we come from.

In pursuit of our freedom, 
we are innocent as apples 

destined to fall 
from their tree in autumn;

as they ripen 

to their own