So fleeting is this thing called life, we journey toward its end,
experiencing pieces of a puzzle we don't truly comprehend.

The hues of our emotion paint a picture of our past,
as we hurtle toward a destiny that is not meant to last.

Youth a canvas all in white, not knowing what awaits,
feel caresses of a brush that which we know as fate.

Love so very true in reds, that beat within our heart,
shadows black take form as hate, which tears the soul...