Grieving Life

This is why they ask? This is why they had to ask? What is a life? What is living? This is what they want to ask Slumped upon a sandy beach. Impaled by nature's windy  deciet Puts to questions what is life How do these answers love to hide! If life is what we call living. Then can I ask, what is living? If living is the act of being present Tell me what makes a being present? If being present is to breathe? Then how do we cease breathing? In breath if there is concious will How can we now will it? If Will were many the might of men Then life would be an open book If we were conscious of this breathing Then man would feel the chore of living And forget to sustain in presence What seems a gamble of the winds and a laughter of the fires Can leave men to question questions And devine  answers with more questions This is why we had to ask This is why I needed to know That is what they ask? What really is living? What is life? LIFE?