Saturday, September 20, 2008

Waste of Life

Perfection leaves no room
for affection
or love.
Perfection is the cold
realization of an approximation,
an apoplexy of personal loss,
a mimic of death by the living,
and a waste of something possessed
in fear of its future misuse.

Perfection allows for a sole direction,
a finite path of change representing many styles
all sharing a single solitary goal:

No one longing for death
can comfort you
or be trusted to be a partner
in living life.
No one looking forward to loss of life, can enrich it.
No one worshipping a path of death can appreciate it
or their fellow travelers through it.

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