Life

 Life.. Is such a fleeting thing.
A fragile bird with broken wings.
Bound by fate and choice and age,
I watch it flutter in its cage.

An endless struggle, a deep breath in between.

Another quiver in the green line on the screen.

From all the higher dreams they aspire, 

Now tethered to life by some tubes and a wire.

Like a trail of smoke across the mist,
Disappears; however it might resist,
Life too will flare, then flicker, then fade,
And leave no trace of the path it made.

For all our gold and glitter and glow,
For all our style and splendor and show,
We are but few lines in an endless rune.
Even the ink will pale off soon.

Though at times, we pretend to be,
Wrapped up in immortality;
The slightest gust of change or chance,
Brings crashing down our ignorant plans.

Then why must we all gloat so loud,
And what do we have to be so proud?
What have we done that will last,
And not be dismissed as distant past?

Thus, I thought, had I stood on stage,
And watched my life struggle in that cage.
Remembering all that I've done to be,
Everything I am, I would set it free.