Life´s emergency in this sweet new world
A chaotic ball of fallen angels from heaven hurled
Our mother is the ocean and our mother is the sky
Did gravity land us here? Is there a how or even a why?
Life´s masterpiece half painted in the front halls of midlife existance
Tones of blue fresh and calming but that don´t hide the reddish turmoil
Our mother is thinners so our brush can change through tints
Our mother is pure colours before we mix, blend and foil them
As life makes fathers of men
Few miracles hasten the process
Bravery sends us to the rescue now and then
With not a paintbrush in my case but a pen blessed
Our mother is conflict
Our mother is survival
Our mother is the quest so epic
to love life while we´re alive
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