| Pray tell,
with so little time to share,
Our life so short it hardly seems fair, Each fragile soul adrift in this maze, Hark, How will you spend the days? |
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| Starlight
in night skies, reflections of the past,
Heavenly bodies above, which could not last, In plain sight, which still burning whom can say, Past and present, are we merely acts of a play? |
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| Yet, if
this brief life is solely a matter of fate,
If misguided fools squander spirit on hate, Dispense devotion, love, all litany of dreams, Might this be as foolish as it seems? |
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| Design
of our presence not thy Souls before,
Countless apparitions like waves on a shore, Each lost over ages, forgotten past eons cruel, Should not compassion be our rule? |
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| Is not
unbridled mercy and kindness our melody,
If not then perhaps only our quest for harmony, Then perchance, who knows when, we are ghosts, Others might recall, matters of the heart count most. |
