At 25, she left the world behind,
Her life a fleeting spark.
With dreams unspoken, hopes unmade,
She vanished into dark.
On the same day, another’s light
Flickered faint but strong,
A man of 87 years, and yet
Still clinging to the song.
I wondered, was it fair that she
Had gone so soon, so fast?
While he had years, though tired hands,
His shadows ever cast.
But maybe, in her tender years,
Her moments all were sweet,
And his long path, though stretched with time,
Had known more sorrow’s beat.
What is enough, I often ask,
In this world we try to share?
Perhaps the answer lies not in length,
But in how we love, how we care.
For no matter how the days unfold,
The hours can slip away.
And in the end, we seek not years,
But peace, in hearts that pray.
So I hope for a day when all is whole,
When wounds are healed, and hearts align,
When souls reunited, no longer parted,
In love, forever entwined,