In the crucible of chaos, where shadows writhe,
Humanity, a tapestry woven with threads of strife.
Love, a fragile ember midst the tempest's roar,
Burning in hearts, yearning for something more.
In rebellion's symphony, we find our refrain,
A dance against discord, a song born of pain.
Yet, chaos persists, an ever-present tide,
Testing our mettle as we seek to abide.
Within the labyrinth, where echoes of dissent,
Human souls entwined in a turbulent descent.
Struggling against currents, both fierce and wild,
A quest for meaning in this tumult, beguiled.
Love, the silent whisper in the clamor's wake,
A resilient force, a stance we take.
Amidst rebellion's fire, a flicker of grace,
A plea for unity in this contentious space.
In the maelstrom of existence, hope unfurls,
A beacon through the chaos, as it swirls.
For beneath the cacophony, a truth we find,
Unity, the balm to heal the wounded mind.
So, let love be the compass in this disarray,
A guiding star to navigate the darkened way.
Rebel against despair, let harmony increase,
In the tender arms of peace, find release.
Through the chaos, a deeper meaning we glean,
Humanity's essence, a resilient sheen.
In unity and love, our strength takes flight,
A promise of peace emerging from the night.
About the Creator
Vishnu
I am a storyteller, weaving emotions into words with precision and passion. Join me in exploring the profound and poetic landscapes of the human experience. Let my words resonate with the beating heart of your soul.
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis6 days ago in Humans
Comments (2)
Makes me thing of a battlefield.
Outstanding!