It’s amazing how death sometimes occupy the same space and
time as life.
It’s amazing how time sometimes blur the line between life
and death.
Sometimes I ask myself,
“Why must I constantly ask myself; why in life, must we face
death?”
Why must the harmonies of joy and gladness be shattered by
loss and emptiness?
Why must life be death and death, life?
Why does the time drag on so slowing in that moment, but it
flies by life so quickly?
Why?
And what is the wonder in our hearts, when we see faces
stand still?
Faces that once were but are no more,
Faces that once touched our fingers and warmed our hearts;
Faces that smiled at us and sometimes sneered at us.
Why must our faces, be bored in our hearts then torn from
our lives in time.
Why?
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