The Fading Of Mans Desires Poem by Not Long Left

Even silence
knows only noise.
The beat of the street,
The hum of the hungry,
sighs of the sordid,
and cries of the collective.
Nothing stays quiet for long.
Fresh morning's breath,
the mourning of a million deaths.

Even light,
knows only darkness.
Faces in constant eclipse,
half face in shadow,
where the roots do not grow.
and meet the rose of jericho.

Even our stongest desires,
know only of our fading fires.
Each day, a flame fades away.
These words may have wings,
but the brain does not know how to fly.