Seems to me that things follow a set pattern, look all around:
Yesterday the sun came up, went down, today has become tonight--
Show of the dark--something spectacular how stars hang in the sky.
They are born, and they die, like the growth at the meristems of trees
Evolving from bud to blossom to green to gold and burgundy, a cycle
Much like moisture, it rises to the sky, collects, falls down again, rises--
So everything just happens a certain way, like some code of conduct--
You can say about something, "this is how it is," because it is in fact that way.
Science tests the theories, actions are ultimately predictable--it spells success;
This pattern is the backbone of their triumph, it is because of these rules that
Everything we see is how we see it, that trees can grow leaves and we can breathe.
Momentary or slight disruption might, if it could ever be caused, be disastrous.
Such disruption, however, is impossible if the code is permanent, and evidently,
Yes, it is stable; there is a code for every existence, and it appears, no choice.
Single is the exeption of man--he has all the freedom in the world to pick and opt,
To go whichever way. As a rule of system there must be a code for him too. But,
Exploring his options, he often decides to invent himself a code. It is utterly novel, yet
Man, breaking so carelessly off routine, so very soon finds himself so very lost.
Submission Name: System
