LAST CYCLE © 2008
Born from a sacred womb,
With the hope of a path illuminated.
They sought, with soul and desire, the better side,
Where love and light would be the legacy.
But life, with its sharp sabre,
Cut and wounded, leaving no message.
It penetrated deep, into the profound dream,
Turning hope into an echo in the world.
And still, the soul resists,
Trying to rediscover what persists.
For the sacred womb still holds the flame,
Which, though wounded, never fades, never maims.