Absurdity
Blooms that I see today fade the next day.
Green leaves turn yellow. They dwindle and fall.
Fruits that are ripe fruitlessly find decay.
Nature stands alert to an unknown call.
The flora and fauna feel paranoid.
Curiously, creatures here cogitate.
By expirations, nature is annoyed.
Every being confronts the games of fate.
I search for the sense of my existence.
What's the purpose of my life here on earth?
Against aches, I've my innate resistance.
Will there be, after this life, a rebirth?
Where, when all is said and done, will I go?
Like dried leaves, with the wind, will my soul flow?
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