THE CULTURE

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Image source belongs to me and courtesy to my smartphone Tecno Camon.

My life, it's slowly coming to a fast end;
Slowly slow, really slowly;
So slowly that I can't feel the wrinkles clothing my skin;
So slowly that I can't see the old grey underlying my hair;
My life, it's slowly coming to a fast end;

Our desires and purposes are slowly dying and drying;
Like logs of wood, set on fire, cast into the wild creek,
We were cast;
Some kept the fire amidst the turbulent sea until...ashes;
And some fought the waves and lost the fire - purposeless;

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Some mocked the purposeless while some didn't,
It wasn't their fire to nurse;
That still doesn't change the movements of the sea and its tidings;
Every log kept sailing and moving, and living;
Slowly and steadily, something kept changing;

The fire is turning some into their eternal ashes,
The purposelessness of others keep sweeping them on;
This still doesn't change the movements of the sea and its tidings;
The finish is forward; there's no going back;
Slow and steadily the picture is fading;

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Our lives, they're slowly coming to a fast end;
Slowly slow, really slowly;
So slowly that we can't feel the wrinkles clothing our skins;
So slowly that we can't see the old grey underlying our hairs;
Our lives, they're slowly coming to a fast end;

Whatever we do today doesn't change our tomorrow;
Today is a long sail in the wild and deep old creek;
Fighting the waves and storms are the hurdles we cross;
Whatever we do today doesn't change our tomorrow,
Because tomorrow isn't there; we'll be dead by tomorrow.

Thanks for reading



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