Life is colourful,
Yet so dim.
What are wishes?
If they are a whim.
The past is sad,
The future, uncertain.
But present is a fad.
It doesn’t last.
The memories are painful.
The possibilities vast.
Time doesn’t heal,
It makes you numb.
Why do we fly?
If it ends on the ground?
If it all has to die.
When nothing is bound.
What is life?
If it has to end
And we’re still in strife
Shadows never bend.