the way of the world
We are all born alike,
created in love, conceived as a blessing.
But the hatred of the world usurps our beauty
leaving lustful, voluptuous, vultures
in our stead.
Is the love we receive a gift out of truth?
Or does obligation slip resent into play?
Mother loves her baby
Groom loves his bride
I question these bonds:
for mankind’s too naive
Life is a downward spiral to death.
Starting strongly in love,
growing first- before waning
leaving space for time to take it’s course.
And hatred feasts n the ageing souls
who’s love has been spent.
Such, is the way of the world
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