Paradox One
In contemplating the reality
Of our impermanence,
We fall into the Shade.
Among the Lost, all coiled in wet hay,
We say to Irony:
Everything is fine.
But to sedate ourselves with this disguised
Lament, is to reject
that which is Heaven sent,
For life begs we imbibe the truth, and ache
under the freedom of Sincerity.