London Poem: Day 203

8 March

To start dictates a certain end,
Be it through nature or not,
To breathe life into one thing
Pulls a finality over it all.
Watching as life shapes the
Way I’ve come to recognise it.
I fear what come too soon,
As my eyes are caught in a
Blink, and unprepared;
For the sound of a rushing escape,
The totality crumbling before I can
Brace myself for what will
Surely come.
I know how this sounds, but
Like myself, nothing lasts forever;
So, let it be nature that rips
It from our hands.

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In flux

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