In a serene town where shadows meld,
Resides a philosopher, intent to delve,
Into the secrets of life, the joy and the pain,
The fleeting moments, the eternal refrain.
With a furrowed brow and hands stained with ink,
He pondered the universe, on the edge of a brink,
What is this existence, a profound mystery?
A delicate tapestry, woven throughout history.
Each sunrise brought queries, like birds taking flight,
What meaning, what purpose, does existence incite.
This he observed as the seasons ebbed and they flowed,
In children's laughter, in the sorrows bestowed.
Yet time, a thief in a cloak of dismay,
Planted seeds of unease in the philosopher's way.
For whispers of death danced in the night's embrace,
A figure so Grim, shrouded from grace.
The Reaper, you see was both feared and revered,
With a scythe that could cut through the courses we've steered,
He moved through shadows, silent as breath,
A herald of endings, the keeper of death.
One evening, as the sun kissed the horizon down low,
The philosopher sat, his heart filled with woe.
He felt the Reaper's presence drawn toward him close and near,
A reality so stark, like the sound of a tear.
“Why do you come, with your cloak and your blade?
Is it time for my end, for my journey to fade?”
The philosopher queried, his voice strong and clear,
“I've sought for death’s meaning, yet you bring me such fear.”
The Reaper stood still, eyes dark as the night,
“No need for fear, no need for a fight.
I'm the end of the road, the close of the day,
A part of life's circle, there’s no other way.”
“Life is a river, flowing ceaseless and wide,
It twists and turns with every night's changing tides.
Embrace every moment, it’s joy and pain intertwined,
For death is a threshold, leading to the sublime.”
The philosopher pondered, his heart taking flight,
In the Reaper's words, he found not the darkness but light.
With newfound resolve, he gazed at the night sky,
The mysteries of life, the scars of the universe there implied.
“Each heartbeat a treasure, each breath a delight,
In the dance of existence, I'll welcome the night.”
As the Reaper drew close, with a gentle caress,
The philosopher smiled, finding solace in rest.
“Let's walk together, through nights shadows and dark,
For life is a journey, death just its last spark.”
Hand in hand, together will roam through all the unseen,
Past echoes of laughter, where life had once dreamed.
No fear in the silence, only whispers of grace,
A philosopher’s journey ends, in death's warm embrace.
In the tapestry of time, where dreams softly twine,
The remaining whispers of hope his children’s happiness dancing in rhythm like stars that align.
Through the shadows of doubt, let our spirits ascend,
For in every final ending, new possibilities spin,
In the heart of existence, where our realities often bend,
the love for our children eternally transcends.
Okuduğunuz için teşekkürler!
Ziyaretçilerimize Reklam göstererek Inkspired'ı ücretsiz tutabiliriz. Lütfen Reklam Engelleyici'yi beyaz listeye ekleyerek veya devre dışı bırakarak bize destek olun.
Bunu yaptıktan sonra, Inkspired'ı normal şekilde kullanmaya devam etmek için lütfen web sitesini yeniden yükleyin.