Life is a poem divine,
without end—
creation unfolds endlessly,
forming, dissolving,
forming anew.
The pulse of existence
shifts and morphs,
carried by the tides of time.
You cannot lean back and say,
'Enough—enough is enough, '
for the poem of life
never concludes.
Each breath drawn anew,
each exhalation released,
is a verse—satisfying, free.
The poem of life never ceases,
nor does the need to breathe.
Death is not the final stanza;
the next poem flows
from the lines before—
A continuation of life's verse,
an echo of eternity's truth.
For you are not the author
of the 'I-poem, '
but a vessel for the divine verse.
His breath flows through each line—
He is living, and so is His poem.
MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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