Life is all we strife for; groveling at heaven's feet asking for luck of the ‘morrow With a single prayer asking that loved ones survive the battlefield hidden to the naked eye. Hoping that we meet one day when the harshness of the wary battles of modern day have subsided and faded into memory. As the roses grow, new opportunities for love, passion, luck and, life shall grow from the very roots of the hard concrete ground of yesterday becoming the soil of a beautiful tree that will blossom with life once mother nature births once again. Creating new life. Creating what will live on until the hellish winters of yesteryear. Growing beauty beyond your comprehension with god's beauty grazing every step you take. Every breath of sweet mountain air inhaled and exhaled into the world that grew on top of the land of the old and became new, and gorgeous with nature beyond what a mind can comprehend, beyond what what you imagine. A land without corruption of a corporation, without degrading hope, without despairing life. Something that became the world from the departed. The world, newlyfound for the future footprint that will imprint a mark on the fresh powder snow on top the mountain of success.