WITHOUT END
Life always goes on, in one form or another.
Without. End.
Infinitely – we’re pirouetting
Through – the light and shadows
Kaleidoscope rainbows
Twisting
Merely
Fancying
This
Existence.
There’s this – infinite supply
Of miracles - that shelter us
From anything
that nearly breaks
And shakes and wrecks
All that we are.
But no – it won’t
End – what we intend to
Finish and achieve because
We’re covered strikingly
With the boundless armor
Of permanency.
