Shall we begin at the end of time?

When idly no one pursues their dream,

When leisurely no drop left from the stream;

Come then will priorities change and attitude renew,

At the close plunder of death bemuse?

Slaves intelligent and choices free,

Douse passion in praise and monetary gain,

Wait and become someone else’s fame;

More willing to sacrifice than that other,

Whose life are you fulfilling, do you wonder?

Dead choices and dreams see no light no failure,

Never know the bitter taste of Fate peculiar.

Framed and pristine, never weather,

A beautiful memory and fantasy achieve;

Lie repeatedly even you believe.

Every second a countdown to those alive,

Destine to fall with so many chances taken,

An expiration date pushes even the forsaken.

Never stagnant, always strife -

Most beautiful when grappling with life.

How do we find meaning in this breath? We all heading for demise;

If tomorrow we bid farewell,

Whose dream would I claim as mine?

Whose hand would I bind?

Whose passion burns inside?