Direction

I must be rational...
Yet that thought fades with each day.
Dull flickers of all I thought was true seem to be drowned by the morning dew.
 
A mere drop on a petal bares equivalent significance as the morbid reality of all our existences.
 
Lay sight in the mirror be consumed by your reflection, are your soul and body pointed in the same direction?
 
For living in the past is truly dying in the present.
 
Take grasp of this passing life, one day it shall diminish and you’ll lay on your death bed dissecting how it finished.