In the realm of wealth, whispers intertwine,
Money's allure, a dance so divine.
Coins clink, fortunes amassed and spent,
A double-edged sword, its power lent.
Through opulent halls, dreams take hold,
The illusion of happiness, stories untold.
But beneath the surface, a deeper tale,
A quest for meaning, a soul's travail.
For money's embrace, it tempts and seduces,
Yet true value lies in what it produces.
To uplift lives, to nurture and share,
A force for good, a world made fair.
Let not the pursuit of wealth blind our sight,
Measure riches by love, compassion's might.
In the tapestry of life, let balance unfold,
Where abundance thrives, and souls find gold.
Whispers of wealth, let wisdom guide,
True riches reside where hearts coincide.
In gratitude and purpose, let us find,
The treasures that transcend the monetary grind.
About the Creator
jiadhh
Look Forward to my Work in the Future.
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
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.