Different voices challenging conflicts ages and in histories
Bringing the best out to
tackle pages of life
Stages and audience available all at all times by default
There is nothing that will end
There would be available plenty
To stop us turning back to clay

The flowers on grave are flowers on stone
Nothing but stones exist inside them
Life merges in to life
Death remains merely a definition that would always remain a grand illusion.

The axe and the killer all
in the causes of reflection 
The real being devoid of all beauty was never the goal
Sentence a sunrise, the sun still never moves
Love a sunset, it still remains there 
Yet the boys go to fight
To see born an event that they
Think how men should live 
On this earth, Marx being a classic example.

I'm intrigued and I wonder
I take myself off 
I remain responsible to me
That would be the truth 
The beauty and the image
All integrated to call a me.

A sticky world in my love poem.