What is life? I wonder…
as I sit reminiscing the escapades
the unsung tales, consumed by the passage of time
Silencing the conundrum of verbose emotions
that lie betrayed inside.
Is it an amalgamation of mixed fervor,
or a concoction of pain and anguish?
Stirred with a dash of victories and defeats,
leaving a savory trail.
Bespoke and solely fashioned by us, is it?
Or charged by an unseen force
with limited choices in this game
like pawns we drift ashore.