Through it all, there is one thing we cling to

that gives to us, when life takes from us

it could be philosophy, god, or writing

when it doesn’t make sense to believe

we find a way

and every death to our expectations

means life to the other thing

when it doesn’t make sense to keep going

our pure joy remains

to love god

is to love above all things

self-improvement is a dead-end door

when life says “no”

we say “yes”

discovering something

we couldn’t find

otherwise

Knowing we will lose

and going the distance

anyway

against darkness

and the twilight of this world

failures become our possessions

refined by love

greater than trophies

glory

or light

taken by the moments

and not the triumph

over them.

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