This horrible, beautiful, wretched, wonderful world.
It kills and betrays and breathes new life every day.
It breaks and it is broken.
It burns to the ground, ashes on a wayward shore.
Yet it builds and re-builds and strengthens the weak.
It fortifies and restores vitality to any abandoned soul.
It destroys.
It plays shallow games.
And I am not immune.
I have just been lucky.
If you call living lucky.
Some might.
Some aren’t even living.
Maybe I am lucky.
If you call drowning swimming
This awful, terrible, inspiring world.
It’s great and terrible.
Warm and cold.
It makes no sense but it tells no lies.
It lives on. Even when we fade.
We are just imprints.
We improve and destroy it all at once.
This world.
It is pitiful and glorious all in the same breath.
With just a whisper it will hold you tight or tear you to shreds.
-JBW
A Dead Language 