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.