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From the darkness of the womb…

to the darkness of the grave,

this is how some see and explain life.

Is this not indicative of fatalism…

to see nothing more than nothingness?

This seen as but a place of strife.

To bypass the beauty of a rose…

to think less of this life and march-

listening to nothing but the drum and fife.

Is this all there is… or is there much more than we could ever imagine? This is but one moment to stop and smell the roses this life places in our path- not a time to be avoided as but something so unimportant.

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