Body Ails Yet Spirit Soars

In the dawn's embrace, as slumber fades away, Bones crackle, the body in aching display. Soreness nestles within, each muscle groans, Yet the spirit persists, it tirelessly hones. Each morning's wake a saga to unfold, Back sore, legs cramped, a story century old. A neck that protests, shoulders that speak, Fingers that ache as they touch and seek. The body a canvas of stories untold, Aches in layers, a testament so bold. Yet, the spirit within refuses to wane, Guiding through the discomfort and pain. A chapter lived beyond the prime, Unfamiliar reflections, it's a passing time. Longevity's range, a distant shore, But a meaningful life, I aim to explore. Pages of medications, ailments array, Yet dignity in living, in every single day. On wings of high spirits, the flight is sought, A yearning to soar, though battles are fought. Never steeped deep in religious creed, Devotion awakened in moments of need. A social heart, seeking friends in stride, As cherished souls slowly take their glide. With spirits high, youth to embrace, Age defied, dreams to chase. Eyes and mind alert and bright, A soaring spirit, taking its flight. In the mystery of fate's design, When life's curtain draws the final line, The body may succumb, bid goodbye, But the spirit, eternal, will kiss the sky.