Life-time

Is it a milling mass

of chaotic obscurity or a 

pristine thread of lucidity? Neither

canst the sweltering sun be shadowed 

by the casting cloud, nor 

the murky nights dwell 

sans scintillating stars.

Last, yet, not ever the least 

in this everlasting scrimmage of 

eternal ephemeral quandary,

the states of gloom and glee, despair and disrepair;

for, the tyres of time are too untiring to cease; 

remains only relishing the reminiscence of remnants;

for, begotten, time has,

the unchanging change. Only one with anything and everyth

we've of its kind, crammed

together with nothing,

a reclusive and inclusive life,

without one!