The hardest part of belonging to a race of destruction is personal growth.
How is it possible for the tree to grow from the seed with no roots?
To stomp the muddy waters with lead boots.
To sink below the negativity that is constant throughout our short lives.
Growth is our finality, in whatever capacity we choose.
It\'s not so much the way we tie our noose,
but how its cut when we hang.
Life is a precious commodity that we have taken for granted.
We sew the seeds of our personal tree.
We water it with our hopes and dreams.
We shadow the leaves of regret that fall from ourselves upon the floor beneath us.
Leaving us only the views of what we wish to see below.