Life, Borrowed Time

We are all living on borrowed time,

Borrowed opportunity.

And too often, we forget this truth:

That all of this is fleeting,

This life, a passing shadow,

Ephemeral,

Transient.

In the twinkling of an eye,

Another reality unfolds.

Our eyes open to a world unknown,

And we ask, How did we get here?

But there’s no voice to answer.

A place so peculiar,

So foreign,

We wander amidst unfamiliar beings;

Not the ones we knew,

Not the faces that shaped our days.

And the truth sinks in:

There’s nothing to be done.

We are rendered helpless,

Bound to the mystifying events

We can neither explain

Nor escape.

Even the mightiest of men

Stand powerless.

No strength can conquer,

No wisdom outwit.

We watch in disbelief,

In solemn awe,

As the clock ticks on.

With each tick,

A breath is stolen—

Random,

Without order,

Unmoved by age or merit.

It ticks as it wills,

Without pause,

Without mercy.

And still,

There is nothing to be done.

We stand defenceless,

Handicapped,

Overpowered,

Defeated

By this clock that will not stop.

And in the quiet,

One wonders:

Could it be a white lie

That families and friends

Reunite beyond the veil?

Is it true

That they meet again?

Or is it only a comforting tale,

A gentle fiction

To give us hope

Where certainty no longer lives?

Yet somewhere in the silence,

A whisper lingers,

A knowing deep within the soul:

That love does not perish,

That what is true

Transcends the grave.

That light awaits beyond the veil,

Where no more ticking clocks

Will steal our breath.

Where reunion is not a myth,

But a promise,

A homecoming long foretold.

So we live,

Not in fear of the end,

But in the faith

That this borrowed time

Is not in vain.

That what was loved,

And who we lost,

Are not lost forever.

Because somewhere beyond time,

Hope still lives.

And love

Love remains.