And we return again
and the world keeps spinning
What is life if not cyclical?
Something round and spherical?
Art imitates life, life imitates art,
what is earth if not Ephermeral?
From iridescent sweat on furrowed brows,
heaving up yesterday's dinner,
anxiety making a home in my belly,
throwing out the old curtains
"I'm just spring cleaning"
To melancholic screams from my third eye,
begging me to wake from slumber and lift the veil,
pour a cup of luscious rememberance,
that we've been here before, we will make it through, and we will be here again,
What is life if not cyclical?
Something round and spherical?
Art imitates life, life imitates art,
what is earth if not Ephermeral?
Vivacious greenery lay beneath my feet,
my heart adorned with love and resilience,
the crown made up of all the rugged bones of my closet's skeletons,
Kali Ma-esque wander dripping from my waist,
What is destruction without creation?
A nonsymbiotic relationship gone spoiled,
The most fanciful dream ever dreamt.
What is life if not cyclical?
Something round and spherical?
Art imitates life, life imitates art,
what is earth if not Ephermeral?
About the Creator
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