There is always a balanced
A pretender A giver A fighter A lover
The paradox of a forgotten tomorrow and
a foretold yesterday
Can’t exude the pain, the relapse or fear
Stellar thoughts don’t reside here.
Why does she insist on such a prominent demise
Is demise the truth. Or does the truth coincide.
With the love of the light or a shed in the dark
Cornered by folly, to a staggered remark.