I tilt my head in reassurance
for the flowers wilt and die
yet another will be risen tomorrow
and the birds again will fly
through dusk and dawn this cycle of life
predictable yet we are surprised
when I am born I didn't ask to be
and tomorrow I might die
but all is well for tomorrow
will come
and then the birds will sing again
and the flowers shall bloom in fragrance
and the sun will fill my heart
but the sun lived its last breathe
and its last flicker of light shone
as a mirage of a typical sunset
and a death with a hope for a life
and the planets crumble
and the moons decay
and tomorrows bud that will never bloom