Is This Life?
Is this life, this fleeting race,
A search for meaning, a fleeting chase?
Each step we take, a question posed,
Each answer found, a door that’s closed.
Is this life, a path of pain,
Of endless loss and fleeting gain?
The laughter fades, the echoes stay,
A memory born, then swept away.
Is this life, a fleeting breath,
A fragile bond with time and death?
We build, we break, we rise, we fall,
A dance within a cosmic hall.
Is this life, the love we share,
The tender touch, the quiet care?
Or is it more, beyond our sight,
A deeper truth, a guiding light?
Is this life, the dreams we hold,
The fire within, the stories told?
Or is it found in things unseen,
The space between, the in-between?
Is this life, this endless why,
A search for meaning before we die?
Or is the answer simply this:
To live, to love, to seek our bliss?
Is this life, a gift, a test,
A fleeting moment to give our best?
Perhaps it’s both, or something more,
A mystery vast, an open door.
Is this life, the now we live,
The joy we take, the love we give?
For all its pain, its doubt, its strife,
Perhaps it is, and this is life.
A search for meaning, a fleeting chase?
Each step we take, a question posed,
Each answer found, a door that’s closed.
Is this life, a path of pain,
Of endless loss and fleeting gain?
The laughter fades, the echoes stay,
A memory born, then swept away.
Is this life, a fleeting breath,
A fragile bond with time and death?
We build, we break, we rise, we fall,
A dance within a cosmic hall.
Is this life, the love we share,
The tender touch, the quiet care?
Or is it more, beyond our sight,
A deeper truth, a guiding light?
Is this life, the dreams we hold,
The fire within, the stories told?
Or is it found in things unseen,
The space between, the in-between?
Is this life, this endless why,
A search for meaning before we die?
Or is the answer simply this:
To live, to love, to seek our bliss?
Is this life, a gift, a test,
A fleeting moment to give our best?
Perhaps it’s both, or something more,
A mystery vast, an open door.
Is this life, the now we live,
The joy we take, the love we give?
For all its pain, its doubt, its strife,
Perhaps it is, and this is life.
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