Mere sprout upon the ancient tree
Let me awaken fully for my day
Press the chalice and cause me drink
Blood red wine of suffering
Muted joys tasted midst pain
What possible entitlement have I
To breathe one stifled gasping breath
Impossibly small, am I, to exist here
What improbable purposeful plan
Dare include the simplicity of me
What audacious presumption causes
Me to stand, a fragile sapiens, tall
My sardonic skull yet covered in flesh
Yet knowing full well who shall laugh
Lastly when all becomes dust again
Love’s strength is such a fragile flower
Built on scaffolds of nothingness
Yet holds the spinning orbs in place
While I’m mottled with empty space
My one pleasing note is borrowed
A fading ember pulled from the fire
Such broken beauty should not be wasted
Put poured gratefully into the earth
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