Prevention, Preservation & Proliferation
Grey is the sky, is the ground, are the trees
Dead are the roots, through the trunk, to the leaves
My hands and feet are made up of concrete
Let's pave the fucking parks.
Inaction left the spark absent from the flint. The spark told the fire it just couldn't hold ground. There was plenty of oxygen and the flint was dry. But the spark didn't come and the fire asked "why?" The spark lay silent, not thinking of a response. The fire knew well that the spark missed watching the fire dance. Any spark would do, but the fire wanted this one. Ages would pass and by the wooden pit did the spark, the flint, and the fire still sit. Did the fire just simply want to be fed? Why wouldn't the spark say what needed to be said? The questions burned and rose into the air like smoke. The fire's flicker, its shimmer, its heat and its glow. All missed by the spark, the flint, and the fire. And when the spark hits the flint and the fire ignites, the spark will cease to be, lost in the flames, burning so bright. At some point the fire would burn no more. Smoldering embers the only trace of what the spark once bore. So forever will the spark, the flint, and the fire wait? Prevention, preservation, and proliferation shall dictate.
Dead are the roots, through the trunk, to the leaves
My hands and feet are made up of concrete
Let's pave the fucking parks.
Inaction left the spark absent from the flint. The spark told the fire it just couldn't hold ground. There was plenty of oxygen and the flint was dry. But the spark didn't come and the fire asked "why?" The spark lay silent, not thinking of a response. The fire knew well that the spark missed watching the fire dance. Any spark would do, but the fire wanted this one. Ages would pass and by the wooden pit did the spark, the flint, and the fire still sit. Did the fire just simply want to be fed? Why wouldn't the spark say what needed to be said? The questions burned and rose into the air like smoke. The fire's flicker, its shimmer, its heat and its glow. All missed by the spark, the flint, and the fire. And when the spark hits the flint and the fire ignites, the spark will cease to be, lost in the flames, burning so bright. At some point the fire would burn no more. Smoldering embers the only trace of what the spark once bore. So forever will the spark, the flint, and the fire wait? Prevention, preservation, and proliferation shall dictate.