if
death is the end,
and
birth the means,
failure
is justified.
at
an early age
family
failed
due
to too much
thought.
followed
by a religion
that came up short,
failing
at all but derision.
passion,
sticky and short-lived,
not
quite clean, failed
its
climatic mission
being
just illusion.
love,
illusive across a universe,
defined
poetically,
stands
alone
against
the tide of failure.
the
garden yields its rose
to
the failing fire, subsuming passion,
religion, derision,
failure.
death
claims
without
aims,
and
the rose shames
justified
failure.
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