It was life which first brought life, a path which all know to be true.
So many forget or choose to never see the fact, that it was death which raised the living and brought them health and truth.
From the fruits which begin to die the moment they’re taken from their tree, to the game or beast raised for the slaughter, all is as one, the same.
And though there are those who avoid this truth, their own truths but a lie, there is no escaping that though life is life, it is from death alone.
Raised to be from what once was, to feast and be feasted upon, to be from strength to the home of another as the hollow of an ancient tree.
A cycle to which all belong despite dreaming of being beyond a part. Never once knowing that only a whole can truly be complete.
A prompt response.