• zohiii 6w


    Isn't life a death sentence?
    To live, to walk, to smile, all the same,
    With the fear of fickle death lingering around;
    Falling prey to the false vows of forever,
    Like jailbirds, we wait for a decreed fall.

    In a kafkaesque scenario, it's a crime unknown,
    To be cursed to breathe, and at once let go;
    Was a seed of sin too grave sown,
    That its roots pull us towards our demise.

    Isn't life a death sentence?
    Doubt-bricked cells, and a wretched fate;
    Some walls scratched, yet others aglow,
    But it's an ugly truth, that it calls everyone;
    Death is an inescapable abomination.

    The running hourglass; a detestable reminder,
    About the brevity of steps before we depart;
    How can I see a halter and not my arm,
    Around their necks who I once called friends.

    Death is a trust fall, with noone to catch us,
    With a pale belief we surrender anyways;
    In melancholy, we shall never know, what they met;
    Is the abyss too deep, are they still falling?
    But we shan't know until we leap ourselves.

    If death is the punishment, what is life?
    Perhaps, death is salvation, to not hurt further;
    Perhaps, we are criminals, afterall;
    Perhaps, death is not the retribution, but life is;
    As we see pulseless dear ones, we mourn collectively,
    For them and for us,
    And for the crime of humanity.

    As the world roars of the tales of deceased,
    It is unaware of the prison it is in,
    Decorated or drab,
    We're all prisoners alike,
    With death as the final verdict,
    And life a chance to feel remorse.

    Life is a death sentence.