Ism

Life is death and death is life
more are you who are they who are who
waxing and waning
spellbound by the moon
heros and villans
grass sky and the earth
noone can compare
with the sum of its birth
man woman child elder
see them fall as was the sender
i am you who are not me
in this life we can only be
little and small with shining hearts
some say we are greater
then the sum of our parts
dark wind cool breeze
it wont ever end
so long as theres something
around that will bend
you see who we are
and how we day to day
go thru the struggles that make us that way
we are the time whos life has forgot
ahead of ourselves to be found ever naught
for they who can see
not the light shining thru
are blinded by sin
sin of me sin of you
this isnt a poem
these words have no place
up in a shelter
up on a vase
chaos and order
the light and the dark
the war and the peace
to heed and to hark
opposition attracts
it makes like a spark
explosion destruction
what comes of this ash
is terror and fear
horrid things come to pass
only with that which cannot be spoken of
can there ever be that which will not be felt
can you see where im going
can you feel what i said
is there still life within you
or are you living dead
the style of life cannot be contained
it is only they who didnot refrain
from dealing with it in how it was meant
it is in this that ones life does get spent
life is more then a poem
it is more then a verse
it is more then a blessing
it is more then a curse
but to try and explain it
to try and contain it
to try and exploit it
to try and avoid it
is to make life an 'Ism'
oh sweet treached way
it is how this is made
so sad everyday