DiescuiMoorne

A promise to never be broken... 

I hold within my hand, a seed...
Now the question lies before me...
Should I plant this dormant lifeless seed, so tranquile...?
Give it life and along with it...The suffering...?
Or leave it be within silence to never exist...To never feel alive...?
Nor feel the harshness of cold winters and death in season's which follow?
I hold within my hand, a breath...A ghost that could be...
As I inhale this world of misery...It twists and coils around me...
I struggle to decide but can not seem to find a reason why.........
Why? Why is this to be my decision, which I hold no right to make...?
It is not my own therefor I can not take the responsability to let live or let lie in the fields...
Leave the choice to nature itself, what is to be done with this unknown becoming
I myslef do not bare any fruits of mine alone...My soul is within the grasp of love...
Let the enamored choose what is to be done with that of which has been entrusted to them...
It is not an object on mine to dipose of anymore...My amorous holds it gently within arms so comforting...
If it is what she wills...
I may not make a sound of death, resonating through my life rusted tunnels...
But then, why leave my beloved with the piercing echoes...
Of that question which is ever such a child of the abject reprobate...
It is not for me to make a choice ever again..
Nor will I let it be such bending weight upon her body...
The question now lies within the sole embrace of nature itself...