What thing is this?
It is an honour–
And yet I wonder…
From this place to another roam,
And still I try to understand:
What is this?
Why do we even bother?
Because there always is another,
To replace us,
And they will also,
Writhe and fight,
And have those moments of delight,
And then like fire burning low,
For life is but a fading glow,
Perhaps we’ll die,
Before the answer dare reply,
Let demons try,
To turn my eye.
A pointless question.
To live apart from “why” is the lesson,
The world will turn again I’m sure,
And chances are you’ll still be here,
In spite of all those churning fears,
And up against it all you’ll rise,
Like flames rekindled,