The Change Between

There’s a hope found in the inferno blaze
Licking at these feet again. Pillage and raze
The city on a hill, our midsummer daze.

They said “Every flower will someday wilt,”
But nothing of their guilt. Indifference?
No. Ignorance, an unwillingness to accept
That things will always change with time.

A first cry turns into a broken tombstone;
Be you rich, poor, good, evil, lost or found.
Life is the change in between. We might be gone
With our first breath but we still make a sound.

How could that ever be right or wrong?
For even a dew-kissed rose has thorns.

sa;bdry

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