Life, they say, is fleeting and brief, A canvas of moments, joy and grief. What we create may fade away, Yet meaning lingers in each day.
“Focus on now, let go,” they declare, But the heart, unbridled, lays itself bare. Where do we pause, where do we bind, When storms of feeling crowd the mind?
To let it flow, or to restrain, A dance between freedom and chain. We walk the edge, not wild, not tame, Living lives that bear no name.
Perhaps the truth lies in the art, Of weaving reason with the heart.
