Saturday, 2 July 2016

Life Is A Canvas

When the sun sets,
at first sight of twilight,
our hope is lost
to the arms of death.

Yet it is again born
with the rising sun,
and the painted blue
finding gentle breaths.

Our world is a marble,
on the blanket of space
spread in the universe,
under heavenly grace.

Our hope dwindles
when the light fades.
But restored it is,
when the sun is ablaze.

Life is a canvas,
an unfinished art.
We are the brushes
gliding across it gently
guided by our hearts.

Our voices our song,
our thoughts our rhymes.
Our will keeps us strong,
our hearts spill and become
the very poems we write.

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