Once, born into the world, were two children, equal yet different.
Each knew not of the other, but instead of happiness and of grief.
Pursue one, seek not the other.
When in pain, reach for relief.

The two knew this to be their reality, even without thought,
a matter of instincts, like flowers that know to bloom in the spring,
and to avoid their death in the winter.

Mortality then, even with the countless curses it has brought,
drives these children into action with it's unpleasant sting.

It pulls and it pushes them to change, to experiment and to grow.
To struggle against Life, to pursue even a fading happiness.

It teaches of Beauty through context,
of Tenacity and Strength through hardship,
and of Appreciation, by letting everything come to an end.

Penned by my hand on the 13th of Mayan, in the year 898 AF.