We are formed in the darkness,
Paving our ways through a medium natural,
And bathing in the brightness,
The empty slate starts being filled up with memories indelible and forgettable.
Since then agony and happiness act as a coin with two sides,
On one hand extremely tired we are; full of life on the other,
The river of life makes us move on and, to several directions, guides,
An endless race with end and no end all together.
The eternal rest is what we deserve in the grave so dark,
The mourners will decide if we are utterly oblivious or have left any mark.