A purple moon glides along an orange sky Below the meadow looks like a blaze of raging reds and sparkling blue hues Pasty white snowflakes drift gently toward the ground I catch one in my hand It is so small, beautiful, and frail it begins to melt the moment I touch it Then it is gone Forever I think to myself that’s all there is Just a series of fragile moments That will never again return or ever be the same The storm inside intensifies There is a sadness in us so deep it could fill all the world’s oceans An agony of despair that creeps through us Never entirely presenting itself but always waiting like a deadly coiled snake There is a soft madness that crawls into our brains but we never vocalize it, nor give it a name We fear it only resides within ourselves but it is in all of us Through sharing, we must set it free or it will destroy what’s left of our humanity Our lives are so delicate and small soon it will be like we were never here at all What’s the purpose of