You are an eternal fascination.
But when we take it all apart,
You are at the heart of creation.
Delusions of afterlife abound,
As do ones of cyclical rebirth.
Lost on us is a truth profound,
That all we know is this Earth.
All we see were born,
All we see will die.
Is that really so forlorn?
Or just a rhythm we deny?
A seed becomes a plant one day,
Flowers so beautiful do bloom.
But it too shall wither away,
Is that really a tale of gloom?
To know you is to know life,
A flower's color, smell, joy.
But you cause in many a strife,
Reducing them to your toy.
You are humankind's endless obsession, the ultimate enemy to defeat.
So too are you a source of life's meaning, so often so bittersweet.
