Sometimes we sit and ponder,
About tomorrow in wonder,
As scratching claws reach,
Everywhere that they preach,
But never practice,
Like the thorns of cactus,
Where Good shall always,
Remain intertwined in ways,
That the evil we find,
Is unconceivable to the mind,
And Death doth grasp life
Again and again,
That we shall sustain,
Our attempets in vain.