What is with this ever mocking embrace of time and age, is it to be that of waste or sweetend like wines taste,  can we measure mortality as we wither n grow, make new to old,  is it to be held so seriously that the more we see the less we can be told, were the more we gather in age then so brittles the soul.  In a world were forever is only but the time you live, where the  longer we wait may not equal strength gained through pain we had to give,  now, though bold, theres less we can behold, though true, there meerly enriched stories of you,  is it to be endless like a sea with only a body to caress and ease no longer lost only more choices … Continue Reading