Endurance is a flower,
A bulb in winter’s depth,
A rare-repeated wonder:
A sin we must forget.

In this-world-of-my-creation
In this world-of-make-believe:
Cancer, the death of children,
Are falling autumn leaves.

I see a road before me,
A road I walk in vain,
A road through Trawden, Lancashire
A road that has no name.

All roads lead to heaven
And all roads lead to you
And all these roads are empty
Of eyes of deepest-blue.

◄ Catastrophe: the banality of evil

Suicide of a friend ►


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Kevin Tan

Tue 24th May 2022 18:35

Then there is beauty in transience. And in defeat, I suppose.

Pour aimer les echecs, mon ami. Pour aimer

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