Culmination Reversal

A petal curls towards the dirt.
The ground... it curled into emtiness.
The blackness... the absence...
The nothing which confirms existance.

Together we thought of betterment,
another excuse to inform eachother,
one more chance to reform.
Yet our existance remains...
we confirm it every moment, every breath, every drop of sweat.

And in the end, do we not place confirmation
into the unscribable etchings?
Who delivered ourselves into being?
If only it were not for ourselves, surely...
we'd open our eyes.

STIX is a crappy band. seriously, the guy sounds like he is on crack and getting is fruit pinched off. other wise your poem is really good. you should read my storey badwater wash.

Ok, I will read it... and my name is not realted to the band 'STYX'

good choice

I chose the name because I play drums... you know.. drum sticks... anyway, thanks for the compliment on the poem!

oh yeah, so do i, or did, then i went to guitar cuz i didn't have drums i had too use the ones at the school and my freinds and the stores and such, and my cousin gave me his guitar.