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Living on Remnants of Dreams
A Poem on the Fragility of Life
We live on remnants of dreams,
Scattered bits of unfulfilled schemes,
On the tears shed for love we’ve lost,
On shattered hopes and heavy cost.
We live in the palm of fate,
A plaything for its whims to sate,
Mocking our pains, deaf to our cries,
Unmoved by our heartrending sighs.
We once dwelled in paradise,
Lost in its beauty, blind to vice,
Its colors we barely perceived,
Till the moon and stars were thieved.
Winter came and refused to leave,
Frosty pride that fire couldn’t cleave,
A season that merged fire and ice,
Named after my years and their strife.
Its letters etched on every breath,
Of days of joy and days of death,
Moments of love, moments of woe,
Of everything life has to show.
Oh, how fragile life can be,
A mere plaything for destiny,
A fleeting moment, a fading light,
A mere whisper in the endless night.
