Life's greatest trials are only a reflection of the trivial triumphs. |
Along the shore of a crowded coast, I sat musing, for the most about man's constant strife and odd nature of his short life. As I sat, ideas hatching, suddenly I heard a scratching, a scratching sound along the shore It was a boy constructing a sand castle; a castle for his instructing. Though I never caught his face, I can tell you volumes about his pace. Every detail he sat forging, in the heat of the sun so scorching. Building a home, a beautiful home, a home for his mind to roam. Then came a young girl, and a sandy wife she did whirl. The children laughed and played, always tweaking the life before them splayed. And here is where I found it strange, the children had already began to change. Their childhood was but an instant, and now it is far distant. As it became that time of day, I sat to watch the tides wash it all away. I gasp in horror to some degree, as I gazed upon the sea No child to be seen, only a sea, sparkling green As I argued what I saw, debating my frozen awe I saw the tide, creeping in from my side. As it washed along my feet, I stood solemn to repeat: “There were no children there, only sand blowing in the air” but I knew it a lie, their death was nothing to deny. Then a new child leapt from the sand, where the castle had made its stand and off he flew, to create a sand castle anew. |