Life

What is this thing called Life? This fragile forging of flesh and spirit A mocking of existence A dream like world of nightmarish hell That can evaporate into a kiss of another soul Dissolving the fear of mortal mass Into an ecstasy of vulnerable pleasure The essence of rapture of love of lust of life Is it God's gift or nature's mistake? Born helpless Live dependent Die weak and pitiful Does the wind laugh at its wretched subject? Licking our faces with mocking joy of ridicule Is it swooshes by lapping the earth With its seasons-Bellowing them onto unprotected bodies From huddling in caves To freezing in slums It has seen it all and changed it less Life has no pity, Sees no sorrow A constant fight for survival A chance to live tomorrow But Life be it unforgiving or unbearable Grant's its mercy in Death Suddenly in youth, lingering in the aged Gracefully the empty sack of blood and bones Feeds the worms and beetles Of the earth it evolved from What is Life but Death? And what is Death but Life? To be born is to die And to die is to be born The beauty of Life is it is fragile An existence of but a breath away A spirit of a beating heart A soul of a living brain Is Death not the beauty of Life? The great equalizer of human kind To feel no more its' pain To escape its' sorrow To outwit its' shame To live is all you have To die is all you get Life is all you got Live-Life Life