The eternal question.
If Immense pressure can form a diamond from atoms, rip a star apart as a supernova, turn it inside out as an endless black hole vacuum or send it hyper spinning as a violent Neutrino, then what of Man born of the same matter?
I believe in Red's Quote,
"Get busy living or get busy dying!"

Two souls and lovers entwined,
For ten years in their happy business.
Closer than two pages of a book,
Thy fell and happy where they stood.
But then one day, a promise spent,
A heart that broke and cant be mended.
My true love left without a word,
and for me that day has never ended.

What wondrous sights are these?
As yawning fauna wake from peaceful sleep and greet the morning breeze.
To fleeting birdsong rising up, which floats and bloats the air with ease,
Then escapes the canopies of ancient trees so tender, into rising Verdigris of splendour.
Upon a lazy English meadow scene, in summer time.

I let myself down,
I let my heritage down,
I let my soul down,
I sold myself short.
I wasted the three most precious things,
Life, love and time
She reached out to me like a strangers hand takes a drowning mans, in a vice like grip,
And pulls you free of everything you ever knew, or were,
And tried to show me a better life of right and wrong.
But in that moment, I lost sight of this happier existence,
As many a gasping man does,
And as if a cruel trick, the grip was lost,
And I was plunged down again into the darkness.
For the serpent's fiery grip is strong, and Ohh… how she loves her prey.

Do not wake me, I am peaceful now.
Under soil trodden shoes I sleep, and whisper of times reserved for the dead, not the living.
Walk on, my friend and enjoy the gifts of life while still to taste.
Alas, mine were once unwrapped, and the packaging unfurled.
I am now but a faded ribbon, entwined around forgotten memories.
Eternal Sleep is my comfort now, and silence is my pillow.

Oh, lovely island of the isles,
Sleeping on a bed of stone.
shrowded in a cloak of mist,
with sea enclosing you for miles.
I listen to your ancient rocks,
for some reply or conversation.
but silence still from fields to docks,
as if in secrete contemplation.
Proud island, rising, stretching from the ocean,
Give us days of light and nights so dark.
A place now entwined with my emotion,
Silent, stirring, enchanting, Sark.