HEAVY IS THE HEAD
Ah is it not synonymous to life itself,
Like a river that eternally ebbs and flows,
Like sands of time which irreversibly sheds,
Through crooks and creeks,
Of dunes and peaks,
With turbulence of life built like intrinsic webs,
But somewhere amongst the delicate weeps,
Lies life’s antique botiques.
Maybe that’s the beauty we seek.