It’s a long way to sunset

Abraham Junaid

Dandelion feathers fluttering away

Some say the light is merely an illusion:
An escape from the eternal Darkness of reality;
Carved on the tablets of confusion,
Antithetical to the truth’s profound finality,

Where we live not to dream, to pursue, to thrive;
But to indulge in envy; to compare, and die.
“How far have you come? Already twenty-five…”
Success-shaming is our generation’s lullaby.

Is age just a number? Feels like it’s much more;
The light continues to indicate remaining battery –
Year by year, the blinking fades in certain encore,
And we, masterpieces, waste away, chasing flattery.

The light is no lie. We’ve long made it our truth:
We’ve learned to smile through the pains of childbirth;
And prolong the gifts and blessings of youth;
And celebrate each long revolution of our earth.

We’ve grown so much – we can think, sympathize;
Through the struggles all around, we make time for joy.
We’re each blessed in a way, it’s hard to realize,
But when, in might, it hits, even the hurt we enjoy!

We’ve learned to love, from the depths of our hearts,
And pour our lives out for those we adore;
And grieve our souls dry as each loved one departs;
Yet, with time, find it in us to love once more.

Life is too short to be lived tracing footsteps;
Don’t blueprint someone else’s journey to embark.
Forge your own: it’s still a long way to sunset,
And even longer yet till it gets dark.

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