The Time We Have

Dear Reader,


The following is a poem I wrote. It is a poem about time - the time in our lives. Like it or not, we are all under the yoke of time. For whatever is born of this world, must eventually die and pass away - to return to the Earth from which it came. I hope this poem will give you some insights on life and death and the time that all of us have.

The pangs of life is but the kiss of death,

One life to live before the final breath;

The sweetest song soon becomes a lament,

When cries of joy are turned into torment.

As roses bloom, so they must wither and fade,

Their pretty petals plucked, and then unmade;

The grass of spring changes to ice and snow,

As life gives way to darkness and woe.

Our life is but a spark that burns too fast,

A rising sun that must descend at last.