Welcoming Techniques, Pt. II: Noble Surrender

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Silence Calls the Storm

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Alas, the sun never rose, but surely in its reddish tint, as it's hoisted on a ladle of green
The dew-adorned plain of Hope in the greater universe
It too shall not ever set
And surely the day will come, by merely the passing of boundlessly long stretches of time upon time, that by mere chance brings with it our first sunrise
And in our inherent will to long for something more out there, and our faithful commitment to that longing, we will be rewarded a thousand fold
For that sun is sure to stand us near forevermore
We will not in foolishness overlook the inevitability of our eventual deaths
Truly this end cannot be avoided
But though things, as well as people, will always change, and will always come to an end
Memories of people can remain
If the sun ever rises it is only to elucidate our propensity to give up, in grave complacency, every bit of hope we surrendered to our rote, daily, yearly, or of any magnitude and scope
And may the last memories of the last people be filled with, if not sunlight, hope in a future sun and its eternal certainty to light up the world
As ever we may have, or truly could have, dreamed it, with all dues repaid, and in the humblest of longings:
In noble surrender to all that the future is to bring

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