"During" of all is death maybe, Precious life being rare so amidst. In idle boredoms long,innocuous,fewer The inspirations kindling sharp and deep. Many aimless wanderings wide, hectic Not often the calm,lucid moments, still. Much talks cheap, too many words tripe Silences creative but few,that flower pretty. In an enduring numbness and sadness real Lesser those loves true, uniquely outstanding. In pains purposeless,cruelties dealt heartless Present ever fewer,those angels of mercy. In epic text heavenly,wise sermons long, Rare that one lovely poem focused strong. If only durings were lived, aware positive! O angels,bless us with life more,meaningful During lives NOW,for sliding are we all fast, alive,dead senseless,to a death final and futile!