Similar to how leaves scatter in autumn only to sprout once more, the ‘ideal’ standards of life are uprooted periodically to enable the “progression” of mankind. However, not everyone is open towards this inevitable cycle of change. As many cling onto certain “traditions” which are relatively obsolete and refuse modernity. On the other hand, many quickly forsake the valuable virtues bestowed upon them by their forefathers simply to appear more “modern” or “progressive”. One question remains to be asked : Will such extreme approaches to modernity truly lead us anywhere?
Threads woven with time’s gold; Illustrations of a luminous story told Where eyes are pried Off the road ahead Feet rooted in the mud A fallacy of prosperity floods The mind’s eye with a periodical rift Down the ladder they drift “Preservation” they brand A label etched onto society’s croocked dam Antique wings take their flight Aged feathers shed to ease the plight Young fragile remains decay Off course the wings stray The confluence of eras ebbs and flows Inexorably, it refuses to grow With trails torn in extremes Prosperity drifts down stream