There's a general malaise that bites on the air,

Chattering its icy tale, chortling that life is not fair.

But begging to differ is a snowflake idle in its quaint perfection.

Flecks of clearest miracle, a momentary visible,

Yet misery captures our attention.

Did we forget to stop a while, to marvel at life’s invention?

Gratitude must be maintained as a practice.

For how quickly, and so sadly, the mind wishes to dull all of my miracles.

Soon we will seek alternative remedies

To solve our sickness and our sadness.

Is it in delusion to escape the suffering caused by humanity,

Or do we continue in confusion to engage in collective insanity?

It’s often in the extremes of suffering

We find we’re closer to enlightenment.

Perhaps as a whole we are being tested;

Do we persist in the blind race to our demise,

Or transcend through our stillness to see the world with fresh eyes?

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