Feeble attempts at lyricism.


July 10, 2019

We are brush-strokes that lay on the same canvas.
Static in the moment, yet animated in eternal motion
like leaves falling from the same tree.

Yet, we fail to see what we’ve been graced with.
When beauty is handed to us, we scowl and scurry away
down the paths painfully paved
by our predecessors.

Has this forever been the norm?
Cherished cynicism served with a shortage of sincerity.
A symptom of the modern zeitgeist…
A wound that will only heal if we pray.