Entropy essential to essence;
Apoptosis in a cosy sentence,
To end it, ’tis mere senescence.
In built, dead we are sent to birth
The womb our berth a bilge
Reading light leant by burst stars we greedily pilfer.
Durst gallant be I? Brief silver flower out, crowded light
Unwilting rose of Galilee, shower my
Patient repose with weighted shoulder.
Alchemisland 
Leave a comment