True beauty carries along agonizing pain.
Slit my throat, cut me off. These tears will never last.
For pain upon this Earth, yes it is, too indefinite to gauge.
A sword fight here or there, it won't change much they say.
But in the end, the worm did make the bird pay.
I desire something more for this planet. I wish for it to flourish and reach its true goal. But how may one proceed to grow, when all that's happening is parasites feeding on the sow?
Regression, progression? We do not know. But at some point it will be the end, of all that we know.