This I don't know well...so much is uncertain, lost in air of breath.
Hence it continues to happen, even to swell, from cradle to passing of death.
It seems unnatural, I might be mistaken, of this is possible see?
But of the actual, matter-of-factual, it could be taken of that which lives in me.
We seek happiness in all it's dress, and wonder why it isnt around, why we aren't crowned with all that accompanys it.
I observe as remark, that it is somewhat stark, that we step in our own....