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On life and its vagaries

Paradox

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Paradox

Here,

At this moment,

I should die-

To be born again.

 

Everything I learned-

Should‘ve no meaning now.

(I need to be born new.)

 

The Past……

Has to be a deed done,

And a pain forgotten.

(And it should be a

 Grisly morgue

One detests frequenting.)

 

Yet my every breath

Springs from an engine

That’s ancient.

 

My every step

Stems from a path

That’s ever inching forth.

 

My very thoughts surge

Out of feeble and,

Studied lines.

 

Indeed I die every moment,

Seemingly

 By staying alive In the past. ….

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