Sanctuary

Sanctuary
Where the Wandering Mind Used to Rest

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Winter 2004 I think.

I stood at Death's door once, and knocked
He did not answer,
so I lived to learn discretion.

He who desires glory,
finds not glory,
but the wisdom never to seek it again
or death.

We are not what we would choose to be
As fragile as our thoughts
As fragile as our dreams
As fragile as our hearts
We are only as great as what we fear.

1 comment: