Life
Life is a strange thing,
It lives, it loves, and it dies.
Most people wonder about this beautiful thing.
They wonder what joy it will bring.
But not I, no.
the only thing that I wonder is how,
How such beauty can cause such pain.
Throughout life we live, we love and we die.
As we live we experience death to others.
Either from others or from life itself.
As we live we experience the death of love and loved ones.
Either love dies in us, in others, or in life, and we still suffer the same.
A part of our beloved life is gone and we will never get it back.
As we live eventually we die.
As we die both suffer, you and I.
We lose our loved ones, and our loved ones lose us.
We never return to our beloved, beautiful life,
And where we go some know, others know not.
Some say we go to a better life in a better place,
A better place where life is what you want it to be, because life does not exist.
Others say that you return to a new life in a the same world,
Where you live, you love, and you die.
Written October or November, 1994
