We’re brought into this world, both eyes open.
Yet somehow leaving, with no way of coping.
The air we breathe, eventually turning to none.
This life we choose, is our future to become.
They say life starts just by conception.
And death begins without deception.
New life is beautiful but has its doubts.
Old death is sad and makes us pout.
The way we live, the experiences we make,
Become an unknown message for a later date.
Life and death are apart of this light
The only thing promised beyond this fight.
Picture by Erik Kossakowksi on Unsplash