A Moment's Remembrance of Time

A clip was, a clip ago, when beauty did this just land grace. When passion-flowers in

fullness and profusion did reign o'er this earth, this cold, desolate, empty earth.

But in a moment's haste, so long ago, in a craze of lust, the narrative goes, that in the blink

of an eye, just a whispering of time, the furies of amour propre enveloped them all. For they found

then an elixir, a miracle drug of the times, that enhanced their just beauty while at the

same clip eliminated any and all ugliness.

So on this darkest of years did a slaughter begin, and upon the states of the human race did

Mankind himself unleash a plague, a blight most deathly and of vile intent, and which was

financed by the authorities of those same nations. The end consequence was a fanatic dedication

to convey about the cruel slaughter and wholesale obliteration of a people deemed crippled...

disfigured...maimed. Of any individual who in this human race of beauty might be found, in a word, ugly.

But something went wrong, as often it does, when world efforts to assume his nature.

When, finding fault with his Creator's original design, he aims to transcend that

given perfection. So that when his Supreme Being said everything is beautiful, that where there is

life there can be no ugliness, man, as he is inclined to do, attempted to happen a prevarication there,

somewhere, by projecting his ain conception of beauty into a human race already beautiful, and

in so doing he did convey down the wrath of the Heavens, which spewed forth an ugliness

of such as intense beauty that his caput could not comprehend, nor could his psyche ever

accept.

And now, though centuries have got passed, life here on this cold, childless human race still travels on.

And come up each passing play dawn, I stare with fondest memories and sincerest desires out

across the street to the Fields of my youth, looking to see if somewhere, somewhere

outside the house, perhaps a passion-flower mightiness yet raise its head, and convey forth once

more a spot of beauty into this sea of empty death.