None of this makes sense
It is so cold and so unlike LOVE
The heart is clamped shut
A cast of iron is wrapped around the only hope of salvation
For without Love
their can be no life
Vultures eat carcasses
living off the dead
and those that are most vulnerable
Living in the past
dying in the now
What hope is there for life
Sustained by artificial breathing devices ...
Narcoleptics walking in a steady stream of programmed response
No chance of individual life sustaining breath
The plug is pulled before there is even a glimpse of what the heart has come to know
The breath stops before it begins
Death becomes Life
Vultures reappear
picking off no-thing at all
The heart no longer beats
For where there is no Love
There can be no breath
The vulture knows as it devours the last remains of that which never was...
Their can be no life
without love...
Ananda 5/25/05
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