Fire fixing it’s destruction
Cancer injected with cancer as a cure
Vain struggles
The hand grasps only straw
Blade strikes only shadow
Quenching the fire
That no more damage is done
Cut the cancer out
To save the host
Bullets do not heal the sick
Tornadoes do not build homes
They do as they were meant
We do as we were meant
Perfectly flawed
The exhilaration of a vain struggle
Makes it no less vain
We came from the dirt
And so we shall leave
A bloody footprint in the mud
Final testament to our last moment
Paradox 
One Comment
From dust indeed we have come and to it we shall return with all the glory; the vain glory; vaingloriously
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