We
expedite in life’s cycle of summer rain and winter snow
Evolving
through moments swinging high and low
With
speed as though a passing wind
Death
draws near to our hind.
Our
silent sufferings teach us to remain bold
Toiling
till our bones grow cold
The crack
of dawn enlivens horizon of our souls’ consciousness to wake
Hoarding
experiences for prosperity and our brood’s sake.
The
mighty man above gazes at our daily dramas
Stunned
by the facts of our fiction
But lour
at our malign melodramas
Anticipating
scenes of celebration not commotion.
In time
we grow old
Chins
wrinkle and skins fold
Savoring
the cake and the ache we get to know
The bittersweet
of life and wish it wasn’t so.
In time
we grow old
Grueling
youthful passions as our forebears did in the old
We sit
back evaluating our lives
Hoping
the rest of our lives would be the best of our lives.
The hustling
and tussling bid farewell along the road
Sprouting
legacies for those behind and yet unborn to nurture and mold
The
clock ticks and time goes on
With the
dead in memorial park and those alive are moving on.
Should
we choose to carry on
Must we
live at the mercy of despair and dread to strive on?
In the
end, we all see what we want and have to see
As long
as it is all there is to really see.
Only the
old can truly tell
The
odyssey to heaven’s haven through the corridor of hell
Life is
a fleeting flame
We all
grow old and pass on leaving behind our names, reputation and fame.
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