Some of us simply arrive at death safely.
But in honest defeat, with a life half lived.
Drenched in the sweat of our own cowardice, having made no commitment to fully live.
Where in some distant desert a flower opens, offering it's frailty to the world.
And therein lies its strength.
A coward is incapable of love.
And so he has no evidence that God exists; something greater than himself.
Our cowardice saves us from nothing in a world where bravery was never a choice...
So love
Because
This is earth.
This is earth.