And the world has now changed.
Things that were lived for in the past are now no longer.
And there is more rhyme to reason.
Call it majesty.
Call it science.
Perhaps the inner functions of being are to procreate and invest every waking breath and every rational element towards the promotion of this life and its progress through time.
The torch is far from passed.
but
it has begun.
In each lullabye.
In each calm-induced moment.
In every sleeping breath
And every waking cry.
There are pieces that will be shared and then given.
For their is no eclipse, without a moon.
And no tide, without the waters.
No prince, without a kingdom.
And no me, without him.
What is whole, translates and permutes into another.
When I evaporate,
He will be the cloud that collects my waters.
