Cycles
The moon dances Her constant rhythm
Waxing, waning, full.
Waning, gone, waxing...
Forever in this continuous spin.
We do not differ so much from the Lady.
We continue our less elegant dances
Harm, apologize, grin.
Lose, frown, and harm from the pain.
And we begin the cycle anew, forever lost in our own naivety.
Perhaps, the sun will illuminate our ignorance.
And we will learn from our mistakes.
But until that graceful day,
we are doomed within our own cycles.
Copyright © Hunter Ware | Year Posted 2010
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