————Authors anote————
I recall a college professor once cautioning that fixating on death in art might blind one to life’s beauty. It was a sentiment akin to a Hallmark card, don’t you think? My flippant retort:
“Well, the day death ceases to exist, so will my fascination with it.”
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In the tenuous realm of survival’s gamble, A spectral echo of beginnings whispers, Navigating the turbulent seas of existence,
To fiercely love, and let hate wither in the shadows,
To glean timeless truths in the flux of each fleeting moment,
Savoring the essence of life’s elixir with voracious hunger,
Unearthing the buried relics of ancient pain,
In the fractured mosaic of memory and desire, To transcend the illusion of survival, And embrace the infinite dance of chaos and creation.
Leigh’s Chaos 