"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves."
|Sunny Shores (Stock Vault)|
One hundred years, waves crashed the shores
Wrinkles omnipresent, like the furled up sands
And dull gray pearls, as far as the distant horizon.
On a creaking porch made of beach-wood stood
What was left of a full life, bones and strings
A sagging rucksack and a frail composure.
Wiry yarn laid crumpled like a robin's nest
A crown that revealed the years of service,
And for as long as the dusty library remembered
This view before pale pearls, a magnificent sunrise.
Bright rays covered the bones up in a blanket
A sparkle wetting the white sandy surface
Glinting from light that breached the shores
One hundred years, waves crashed upon paradise.
Question: "What life would you unravel if you lived 100 years?"