The Ledger of Life

In this world, no gift is free,
Not the wind, nor sky, nor sea.
From the moment breath is drawn,
Value’s weighed—a silent pawn.

Parents tally what we cost,
Years unfold, yet more is lost.
Time, relentless, steals our prime,
Leaves us chasing ghosts of time.

We love in flames, we ache in chains,
Hollowed out by silent pains.
No hand can lift the weight we bear—
A heart’s lament, a stifled prayer.

Yet pause not in despair’s embrace,
Nor let fate dictate the race.
Seize the hour, clutch it tight,
Mold the dark to forge your light.

For suffering, though sharp, may guide
The strength we bury deep inside.
Small the heart, yet vast its scars,
A constellation of broken stars.

Protons clash, neutrons fade,
Electrons scream—yet none are paid.
But the heart’s last debt, cold and sly?
The shroud we buy the day we die.

The mind, a vault of unshed tears,
Cracks at last—and truth appears.
So live with hands outstretched, uncurled,
Give the world your fleeting world.

For worth is not in diamonds, but sown
In seeds of kindness left when gone.