Morning peace
tranquility
Everybody trying to be everyone
Its so hard to get perfection
useless worries to mind
Anxiety and tension
Sometimes It feels
Like its nothing to achieve
There is no time to sit
And ask to mine
What you need
Sometimes its feels
To just leave
Is there really any base
To so much competition
I miss the mornings
Of child like joy
Birds butterflies
Peace to enjoy.
About the Creator
ss (Dedicated to True Love And Humanity)
Wish to write the words ....................................
with meaning
emotions
moral
love
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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 Curtis5 days ago in Humans
Comments (2)
Such mornings are rare but always treasured.
Excellent words