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A man argues with that which upsets him most. Because a person must revolt with what he believed. As dusk dawns and the flowers wither we are left with none but our thoughts. Ponder of what were a small grain of dust and sand amongst a vast ocean of troubled dreams. We should not flow and sway with the uncalculated wave of misfortune unsure of its tide and its rip far stronger then we can fathom until we are left on a desolate wasteland of unfinished plans.

If we so but had the power to fight the wind of change and become what we were to be. Forest die and animals savage but that has no say in the life of god. Flower of hope which forever sprouts new love and courage.

If we could grasp on the ropes of our heart and just stare into the eyes of what was a ray of our salvation. The spiral tunnels of misfortune always lead itself to the right place. For the night end we all puzzle to fit that what we cant answer. If we could just some way fit in with our surroundings and not caged in figment of enslavement. To our body and mind, free yourself of the yoke of deception and falsehood.