Little Meteors, Start of Life
The clouds that flow upon the horizon,
Thundering, clapping with bright lit hands,
Strike and smash, the trees below,
In a brilliant lightning flash.
Crumbling, writhing, the land is shifting,
Sundering, simple, the stones to clash.
Each and every single feature,
Now is altered like a living creature.
Mud that boils from down below,
Sink into the muddy soil,
From it springs the first of life,
A tadpole born in burning strife.
Now you know the plight of life,
Can you go on living?
Would it not be best to end it,
Is the end not becoming?
I'll tell you why you shouldn't end,
I'll tell you for it's