This World...

It has never been perfect,

Yet seen as an efficient object-

The irony plants itself as a seed;

Brings Us joy, and allows some to bleed...

Inspiring as a unifying whole,

Yet split apart from pole to pole-

Fighting so humanity may be alive;

Brings Us hope, some unable to survive...

Somewhere in the middle,

A break, a conflict occurs-

Imperfect, chaotic, yet natural;

The sun after dark, an inspiring Cycle...

The seeds in our soil,

Full of birth and turmoil-

Grows into the tree to thrive;

Unable to live, yet willingly alive...

Unpredictable this Nature may be,

The plants and the air that we breathe-

Our fights so We may fit in;

The Cycle revolves to let it begin...