Life
In the quiet of the night, on a journey without destination,
A stranger shared his wisdom, an old soul, a newfound friend.
His eyes held tales of sorrow, his words, a gentle balm,
He spoke of life’s uncertainties, in the stillness, a calming psalm.
“Life,” he said, “is a game of chance, a dance with destiny,
Know when to stand firm, know when to surrender.
Never count your blessings while you’re in turmoil,
Wait until dawn breaks, at the close of day.”
Across from him, another soul, lost in thoughts profound,
His words spun tales of mystery, his logic tightly wound.
He spoke of a spectral maiden, her visage pale and bright,
Her story wrapped in riddles, in the soft, fading light.
“Her beauty was ethereal, like a dream within dreams,
Her presence, an enigma, a softly flowing stream.
She danced in silent rapture, under the moon’s soft glow,
Her secrets shrouded in silence, in the ebb and flow.”
Two tales of life unfolded, in the quiet of the night,
One of wisdom hard-earned, one of spectral light.
In the rhythm of their tales, in the silence between,
Lie hidden echoes of our existence, waiting to be revealed.
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