Angle Poem by Anonymous Rose

The oscillating life between months and years,
Comes to a point where it started.

Dwindling between smiles and tears,
A day reaches when the soul's departed.

Not a big deal! Ain't it?
Just a transformation, that's what adapted.

A string and a stone when tied, circulated together.,
shows a new pace, a momentum, when evaluated.

All significant modes, worth it, whatever...
Life's span, just a count of breaths, is ever calculated.